


the subway rats // on break

by itskurtcoblaine



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Homeless, Coffee, Coffee Shops, College, Homelessness, Homophobia, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Language, New York City, Original Character(s), Slow Build, Slow Burn, Trans Character, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-05-21 00:49:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 32,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14905349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itskurtcoblaine/pseuds/itskurtcoblaine
Summary: When passing by homeless people, you often don't make eye contact because it makes you feel guilty, or uncomfortable, or sad. Blaine avoided looking too, until he locked eyes with a homeless boy his age, and his entire world changed forever.Living without a real place to call home changes people. Sometimes for the better, but mostly for the worst. People change people. Sometimes for the worst, but mostly for the better. Kurt couldn't quite understand this, as he locked eyes with a college kid, and thought nothing of it.





	1. Chapter 1

“the subway rats - any donation helps” was written on a wooden sign in colorful loopy letters in front of a group of kids. Blaine didn’t think too much of it, just another bunch of homeless or disadvantaged kids needing some extra cash. He felt bad for them.

The oldest, probably the same age as Blaine, used buckets, baskets, a snare and bass drum, and a rusty cymbal as a drum set, a bandana tied around his forehead like a rockstar and held worn drumsticks that pounded out a complicated and compelling beat.

Another kid played an acoustic guitar that looked like it was worth no more than $50, and beside him a girl played a complex tune on a higher-end toy piano. 

The youngest played something on a ukulele that complemented the guitar, and together the four of them made decent music. 

Blaine dropped five dollars into the box next to their sign, and looked up to see the drummer string at him with hopeless, passionate eyes. Blaine held the drummer’s gaze for a moment too long, and gave the drummer an awkward but kind smile as he made his way away from the subway.

 

*

 

“I think that’s it for today guys, come on. Let’s go home,” the drummer said, putting buckets inside each other and gathering up their equipment. 

The guitarist, Mikey, counted up the money in the box as he helped clean up. “Dude!” he said, “143 dollars!”

“Not bad at all,” the drummer said. “Everyone set?”

The kids replied affirmingly, instruments and money in hand. 

“Let’s move out, rats.”

The hideout was less than four blocks from the subway, but the walk seemed to take hours as the group gripped their instruments with their whole bodies and made their way across New York City. 

They returned their things to their places and each took a seat on their sleeping bags. The drummer tossed a single serve Kraft Mac & Cheese to each of them and started a fire. He placed a pot over the fire and boiled water for dinner. 

The kids ate quickly, hungry from a long days work. 

“Can we get McDonalds for breakfast?” the piano player, Frankie, asked.

“Yeah, maybe,” the drummer replied. 

“We made a lot of money today,” Frankie said, her tone of voice like puppy dog eyes. 

“It’s not about the money,” the drummer said, putting out the fire. “I don’t want you guys eating like crap every day. Tomorrow we’ll go to the pharmacy and get some bread and veggies and then play a set, okay?”

“Okay,” the kids said in unison. 

The drummer looked around the hideout, the third floor of an abandoned parking lot that claimed to be under construction. But, a few months ago when he found the place, it looked exactly the same. 

The youngest, Mouse, lay down on his sleeping bag, strumming a simple chord progression on his uke. “You gonna get some new stuff tonight?” he asked the drummer. 

“Probably tomorrow. Wanna go play with them?” he replied, gesturing to Mikey and Frankie doing cartwheels around the hideout. 

“Nah,” Mouse said. “I’m good.”

The drummer was 23 years old, and lived on the streets ever since he ran away from his dad. His mom died when he was thirteen, and after that his dad started to turn to hard drugs and alcohol, so eventually he ran away. Never made contact or seen him since.

He had picked up the other kids over the years. First Mouse, who was only six at the time (now 12). Mouse was kicked out of his apartment by his promiscuous mother and her boyfriend at the time, for reasons the drummer would come to know. They slept on benches and in alleys for nine months together until they found Frankie and Mikey, who were best friends living in an orphanage together and until they escaped. Literally, like in some low-budget animated movie. 

They were both now 15.

The drummer hit buckets for money before he found any of them, and when Mikey showed up with a guitar he stole from the orphanage, the amazing idea to make a (literal) band of misfits struck his mind like lightning.

The four of them all loved music; they loved playing it, being around it, innovating it. They saved up to buy Frankie a keyboard from a toy store, which wasn’t even that cheap, and a uke for Mouse. Frankie had taken lessons when she was still living with her parents in Brooklyn, and Mouse picked up the uke in a few months. 

They found you could get good at something if it’s the only thing you do all day. 

The Subway Rats were born. Not always welcomed by pedestrians and police officers, they made their living playing music by the subway entrance nearest to the hideout. 

They were only living in the hideout for the past five months, as the police kicked them out of their previous spot, which was home to many other families and homeless people. They were lucky to find the hideout, especially since it was so close to a subway station. 

The drummer lay down and chuckled thinking about the guy who gave them a Lincoln right before they packed up for the day. He was just the same age as the drummer, maybe even younger. And he was probably on his way from some expensive school going back to his apartment with a phone and television and fridge full of food, while the drummer was… lying on a sleeping bag in a parking lot.

“Goodnight, Kurt,” Mouse said. 

“Night,” the drummer replied. 

 

*

 

Coffee at his favorite café was a must for Blaine every morning. As a Sophomore at NYU, his days were always busy, as he was a member of many clubs and took more classes than he may be needed to in order to complete his requirements as soon as he could.

He’d ride the subway from his apartment in Greenpoint to the Eighth Street stop right by NYU. It wasn’t a dreadfully long ride, which he appreciated, and his roommates made the rent bearable. 

He worked part-time at Café Grumpy which was walking distance from his apartment. He had it all figured out. 

Blaine wasn’t not-used to seeing homeless people on the street. He never really knew how to react, and always tried to tip performers because he loved the music that lived on in people’s hearts even when the rest of their lives weren’t amazing. 

He got home that night earlier than usual so he decided to make dinner for his roommates, Rachel and Sam. 

“Hello!” Rachel sing-songed as she opened the door. 

Blaine and Sam were playing a video game that they paused and walked over to meet Rachel at the dining table. 

“How was everyone’s day?” Rachel asked, scooping salad onto her plate.

“Pretty uneventful,” Sam said.

Blaine hid a smile as he made his plate. “Well, there’s this guy…”

“Dude!” Sam exclaimed. 

“It’s nothing yet,” Blaine said, his face and expression showing the mix of excitement and embarrassment. “But he’s in my music theory class, and he’s super cute.”

“Is he gay?” Sam asked.

“You can’t just ask people,” Rachel said. 

“It doesn’t matter, we’re friends, and I might ask him out if I find out he’s, well, not straight.”

“That’s awesome, dude,” Sam said. 

Blaine accepted Sam’s rather aggressive pat on the back and allowed himself to be proud of himself for sharing his crush. He was a huge romantic, and really hoped this thing with this guy would work out.

Blaine went to sleep that night with the face of the drumming boy from the subway band in his head. He tried to shake it from his mind but it was one of those things that keeps someone awake. He wasn’t sure why.

 

*

 

“Hey, Oscar, I was just wondering if you wanted to grab some drinks or something after class?” Blaine asked, mostly asking the floor rather than the boy.

“Yeah! Yeah. I’d love that,” Oscar replied, beaming at Blaine. 

Blaine felt his stomach do a flip and rocked on his heels. “Awesome, I’ll, this is my last class of the day, so do you want to just go from here?”

“Sure,” Oscar said.

Of course Blaine couldn’t really focus on the professor for the last ten minutes of class. He prayed his hair looked alright and he wasn’t sweating as much as he felt he was. 

They walked to a coffee shop talking about school and music and sat down with their drinks. 

“You’re a Sophomore, right?” Blaine asked. 

“Yeah, and you are, too?” 

Blaine nodded and smiled at his coffee. 

“So, I’ve never really been on a date with a guy before,” Oscar said. “Not that this is a date, but it’s just really cool that I’m here with you.”

“Oh, are you not, gay?” Blaine asked, fearing the worst. 

“I’m bi.” Oscar replied. “I’ve just never worked up the guts to go out with a guy before. “I’m glad you asked to hang out. This is nice.”

“Yes, this is nice,” Blaine said. 

They finished their coffee while talking about New York and their lives and their friends, bonding over so much more than they could’ve hoped for. 

“Would you want to come have dinner at my place?” Blaine asked. “Just to keep talking, I feel like you’re my long lost brother or something.”

“Hopefully not a brother,” Oscar said, causing Blaine to bite his lip and laugh a little. “And of course I’d love to come over.”

On the subway, Blaine felt Oscar’s hand slowly creep over to his, and without looking at Oscar or their hands, Blaine let their fingers intertwine. They walked off the subway holding hands, and the faint sound of music coming from outside the station made Blaine almost stop in his tracks. 

The Subway Rats pumped out a tune similar to the one Blaine heard the other day.

“I love these guys!” Oscar said. “They used to play outside my subway station, I’ve been wondering where their new venue was. Wanna stay and listen a bit?”

Terrified to say no, Blaine said, “yeah, sure.”

Their hands still laced together, they watched the group of teenagers play. 

“Aren’t they good?” Oscar asked. “Blaine?”

Blaine shook himself out of the trance of the drummer, and wanted to dart across the street when he realized he had been staring at the boy for over a minute.

“Totally. Amazing.”

Oscar stepped forward and put a dollar bill in their box. Blaine noticed the disappointed look of the ukulele player at the small donation, and Blaine opened his wallet and placed ten dollars into their bucket, giving the ukulele kid a smile. They smiled back.

“That’s very kind of you,” Oscar said. 

“Like you said, it’s good music,” Blaine responded. 

The song ended and Blaine broke away from Oscar’s hand to clap for the band. 

“Ready to go?” Oscar asked. Blaine nodded in reply. “You guys are amazing,” Oscar said to the kids.

“Have a good night,” Blaine said to the band, but mostly to the drummer. 

The drummer raised his eyebrows and gave a subtle head nod to Blaine in return. 

Blaine slung his arm around Oscar as they walked to his apartment. Blaine quickly texted his roommates that Oscar would be joining them for dinner, to order pizza, and to not make a big deal out of it. 

“You live in Greenpoint, how very hipster of you,” Oscar joked. 

“I try,” Blaine replied with a laugh. 

 

*

 

“Ready to call it a night?” Kurt asked the band. 

“One more song!” Mikey said. 

“Okay fine,” Kurt said. “But I’m tired as hell so make it a quick one.”

Mikey and Frankie exchanged looks and proposed their favorite song. Kurt agreed by hitting his drumsticks together four times, and the Subway Rats performed their encore. 

Kurt got sheet music from the public computers in the library and copied it into his notebook, then taught the music to the kids over the course of a few nights. They now had a catalogue of about 40 or so songs that they rotated, and Kurt always let the kids choose which songs they were to play each day.

When they were finished, Mikey counted up the money, holding up the ten dollar bill from the college kid they got earlier. “Score! Can we get some candy or something?”

Kurt laughed and snatched the $10 from Mikey in a playful way. “No, we’re saving up for a new piano for Frankie. She needs more than three octaves if we’re going to play any good new stuff.”

“Fine, whatever,” Mikey said, putting his guitar in the giant suitcase they used for a case. 

“You guys wanna get Subway for dinner?” Kurt asked in an attempt to cheer them up.

“Uh, yeah!” Mouse said, along with other hoots of affirmation form the group. 

“Let’s get this crap home and I’ll take orders and pick it up,” Kurt said, slinging a stool under his arm. 

They made their way back to the hideout and Kurt tore out a page in his notebook and passed it around to get what everybody wanted. 

“Just stay here while I’m out,” he said. 

“We’re not children,” Frankie said, “or dogs. We can stay put without you telling us to and bribing us with treats.”

“I know,” Kurt said, smiling, “just wanna keep you guys safe.”

“See ya Kurt!” Mouse said, using their chalk to draw on a concrete post. 

Kurt walked along the streets of New York, passing the quaint townhouses and shops and stores, wishing he could casually walk in and buy whatever like the people he saw doing so. He got the sandwiches, which cost just under $20 dollars. He winced at the price.

They only ate out once every week or so, and even that meant going to whatever fast food place was healthy enough for Kurt’s standards but also cheap enough for their budget. 

With the few extra dollars he had left over he went to a 7-11 and bought some bread, peanut butter, and fruit snacks for the next few days. 

“You people better enjoy what cost a quarter of today’s cash,” Kurt said, handing out the sandwiches when he got back.

The band dug into the fresh meal and Kurt lit a fire. The autumn nights were starting to get chilly. 

“This lighter’s almost dead,” Kurt said to himself. 

“We can get a new one tomorrow,” Mouse said calmly. 

Mouse was hardly where Kurt wasn’t. He looked up to Kurt like a father, or more like a caregiving older brother, and in return, Kurt tried to give Mouse special attention when he needed it. Mouse had been through a lot. 

Kurt used the wrapping on the sandwich as fuel for the fire, and picked from a pile of thick branches they collected to keep it alive. Kurt hugged his knees to his chest, and Mouse crawled over to Kurt’s sleeping bag, resting his head on Kurt’s shoulder. 

“Kurt!” Frankie yelled. 

“Yeah?”

“I need more tampons.”

“Like now?” Kurt said, their financial situation not being able to leave him alone for longer than a minute. 

“Like in the next few days,” Frankie yelled back. 

She and Mikey were eating their sandwiches and drawing with chalk where Mouse was before Kurt left to pick up dinner. 

“Am I going to need those?” Mouse asked Kurt. 

Kurt dreaded to reply. “Finish your dinner,” he told Mouse. “We can chat in the morning.”

Disappointed, Mouse crawled back to his food and finished the sub. He couldn’t tell why Kurt wouldn’t answer. Mouse hated how Kurt stressed about money all the time. 

But he hated even more how Kurt tried to protect Mouse from things that were undeniable.


	2. Chapter 2

Kurt squinted at his watch. 6:37. Too early to wake up. Too late to go back to sleep.

He collected some money and decided to get himself a coffee, which he hadn’t had in months. 

He pulled on some clothes and fixed his hair to the best of his abilities and walked to Café Grumpy. It wasn’t a cheap coffee place by a long shot, but it was where he went with his family when he was little. Kurt used to beg them to buy him a treat, like a cookie or a muffin, and they hardly gave in. 

How ironic. Now _he_ couldn’t afford such luxuries. 

The café was quiet this early in the morning, but certainly not empty. People who were on their way to work sipped coffee and read the news or rushed out with their breakfast in a hurry. Kurt ordered a small black coffee, probably the cheapest thing on the menu, but he ordered it not because it was cheap but because he liked the raw and bitter taste of the drink. 

He almost choked when he saw who the barista was. The guy from the day before with the generous donation.

Kurt didn’t make it a habit to remember the faces of the people who donated money, even recurring people, partially because he was too busy playing the music to get a good look at their face, but also because there were so many faces he saw each day he just couldn’t physically catalogue each one. 

It was the same friendly smile that greeted Kurt that the college kid gave to Mouse just the day before. 

“What can I get for you?” The boy asked Kurt. He was wearing a denim jacket over his apron, but Kurt could read his nametag. Blaine.

“Oh, uh, just a small coffee please.”

“Would that be all?” Blaine asked, ringing up his order. 

Kurt nodded and smiled in reply. 

“Can I get a name?”

“Oh, um, Kurt.”

“K-U-R-T?” He asked, and Kurt nodded. The barista smiled and wrote his name on a cup. 

“Hey, do you do street music outside the Greenpoint subway stop?” The barista asked.

Kurt nodded, “uh yeah, me and my… friends.”

“That’s so cool!” Blaine said. “You guys are really great.”

“Thanks,” Kurt replied. 

They stood in incredibly awkward silence before Kurt registered the price of the drink and started counting out the money.

“Oh, coffee’s on me,” Blaine said. 

“Really? I can pay for a cup of coffee...”

“No, I got it, just don’t go shouting to my manager,” Blaine said as he swiped his credit card and gave Kurt a charming smile.

“Thanks a lot,” Kurt said. “Really. That’s super nice.”

“Anytime. Keep doing music, Kurt.”

Kurt moved out of the line and waited for his coffee. He felt his stomach drop when he realized he didn’t write a note saying where he was to the kids. What if one of them woke up and didn’t know where he was? What if they thought something bad happened to him?

His coffee seemed to be taking hours to get ready. Once they called out his name he raced up to the counter, grabbed the drink and headed for the door.

“I’ll see you by the subway!” The barista called after him. 

Kurt turned and gave a casual wave and quick smile before almost running out the door.

 

*

 

Blaine furrowed his brows, unsure of what just happened. That was the drummer, right? From the Subway Rats? He just came in during Blaine’s morning shift of work, which he only had four days a week for two hours each day, and ordered a coffee, which Blaine had paid for. What?

He rolled his eyes at his last comment. “Keep doing music?” that’s how he made a living, idiot!

He took orders and made coffee in a daze until his shift was over and he walked to the Subway to go to school.

He was disappointed to see that Kurt wasn’t at the stop when he walked down into the Subway.

Blaine didn’t have his first class for another hour or so that day so he decided to hang out in the library. He felt his phone buzz and saw it was Oscar asking to hang out. He smiled and replied he was in the library.

“You’ll never guess who I just saw at the café,” Blaine said.

“Who?”

“The guy who was drumming for the street band you said you liked!”

“The Subway Rats? No way! Small world I guess,” Oscar said.

“Or I work at a café like a block away from the station they play at.”

“Yeah, I guess that might be a reason too.” Oscar set his bag down and rest his elbow on the table, fist on his cheek, laughing at the interaction. “You wanna hang out later today? Maybe grab dinner or something?”

“Is that a formal date you’re proposing?” Blaine teased.

“Perhaps,” Oscar said with a smirk.

“I’d love to.”

“Awesome!” Oscar said. “There’s this really nice Italian place that I think you’ll love. I actually have class in like 10 minutes so I’ll text you, okay?”

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll see you,” Blaine said.

“See you,” Oscar replied, smiling and rushing out of the library.

Blaine couldn’t believe how wonderfully things were progressing with Oscar. He was such a cool guy, he was in a band and was super smart and it couldn’t hurt that he was also incredibly handsome. 

Their date went excellently. The food was amazing, and the ratio of awkward silence to engaging conversation seemed unreal to Blaine, and apparently to Oscar as well. Oscar invited himself over to Blaine’s house but Blaine insisted that he had work to do and his roommates were going to be home all night so they couldn’t, they wouldn’t have any privacy. 

Blaine didn’t really say that he was in no way ready to be intimate with Oscar, or anyone, and he didn’t want to spoil the budding friendship, even romance between them with a night of sweaty sex and regret. 

That’s just where Blaine was at the moment, and judging by Oscar’s fit build and effortless charisma, he probably didn’t have the same mindset. 

They parted with a kiss on the cheek, which sent a whirlwind of glee through Blaine, and made his way home. 

When he arrived it was a little past nine and Rachel was playing something on their piano and Sam was singing, and snacking, along. 

“How was your date?” Rachel asked after the song ended. Nothing could interrupt a performance.

“Incredible!” Blaine said, falling onto the sofa, “goodnight.”

“Wait,” Rachel whined, “give us the juicy details!”

Blaine rolled over to his back, eyeing their wall of instruments. A plan formulated in his head, and this thoughts were anywhere but his date. 

He thought about the Subway Rats, about how they were just kids, one of them around the same age as Blaine. Who decided he would be living in an apartment filled with nice things, attending college and not needing to worry about where his next meal came from, and Kurt and his friends had to perform outside a subway station for hours just to get by. 

“Sam,” Blaine said. 

“Yeah, buddy?”

“How many guitars do you have?”

Sam eyed their small collection. “Just my acoustic and my archtop, why?”

Blaine curled up on the sofa facing his friends, “just wondering.”

“Stop being so mysterious!” Rachel said. “What, are you going to serenade your new boyfriend with a beautiful ballad? You know you can always hire us to help you.”

Blaine laughed. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Yet,” Rachel said with a smile and a wink. 

Sam looked back at Blaine with furrowed brows, “you know I never even use my archtop anymore. I should get back on that. You know what, I should get a new one, this thing’s pretty busted anyway.”

Rachel made a noise of disagreement. “We don’t live in a Guitar Center, Sam, nice instruments don’t grow on trees.”

Blaine sat up straight and pointed at Sam. “Bring me the axe.”

“Yay!” Rachel said, “another song.”

Sam handed Blaine the guitar and Blaine played a few simple chords. “Does this thing need amplification?”

Sam scratched the back of his neck. “I mean ideally, yes, but in theory, you can still get some good sound out with nothing.”

Blaine played another chord progression, smiling at the music. “Guys, I’m going to suggest something crazy…”

 

*

 

Kurt handed out honey and peanut butter sandwiches to everyone along with a water bottle for Frankie and Mikey and one for him and Mouse. 

“Cheers, boys,” Kurt said, taking a swig of water.

Frankie rolled her eyes. “And girl.”

Kurt rolled his eyes back at her, “it was a casual genderless statement to imply friendship, for your information.”

They ate through giggles and insults out of love, always disappointed when they had finished their meal and there was nothing else to eat. Kurt really tried his best to make everyone eat healthily, but sometimes healthy food was just too expensive. 

“You guys wanna go shopping later today? I gotta get some batteries and other stuff… maybe get some new clothes?”

“Heck yeah!” Frankie shouted. She was a sucker for new clothes. 

Kurt handled the money, not because he didn’t trust the kids, but because he just liked keeping track of where everything was and how much of it there was.

“Alright rats, pack it up,” Kurt said, gesturing to the band and the instruments. “Anyone got a set they want to recommend?” 

“Can we do the one we did like three or four days ago?” Mikey asked. “With all the rock songs, and that one German one?”

“Totally,” Kurt said. 

Mikey and Mouse high fived. 

“Onward!” Kurt exclaimed, pointing to their exit. 

Kurt shook his head and smiled as they passed Café Grumpy, remembering the morning before. Crazy New Yorkers. 

“Kurt, look!” Frankie screamed, pulling on Mouse and Mikey over to the subway stop. 

Kurt ran after them, in shock at what he saw. He looked around, confused, tired from running, not sure what emotion he should be feeling. 

“You think someone forgot it?” Mouse said.

“No, I doubt it, no one would just ‘forget’ this,” Mikey said, emphasizing the word “forget.”

“There’s a sticky note,” Mouse said. 

“What’s it say?”

“You guys know I can’t read that well,” Mouse said quietly. 

Frankie ripped off the sticky note, slowly reading the words written over it. Kurt walked over, leaning over Frankie’s shoulder to read the note for himself. 

“For Kurt & the Subway Rats. Please keep it.”

“Someone gave us this?” Frankie said, squinting at the note. “This is sketchy. What if it’s a bomb.”

Kurt grabbed the sticky note, read it over once more, and shoved it into his pocket. “I don’t think it’s a bomb,” Kurt said, picking up the guitar. “It’s beautiful.”

Kurt strummed a chord on the instrument, feeling the vibrations flow through him. No one in the city knew his name (not counting the rats). Except…

Kurt whipped his head around, scanning the patios and streets around him. He had to be here somewhere, no one would just leave a guitar this nice looking on the streets of New York. 

“Give it to me!” Mikey said, putting the strap around him and strumming the chorus of a song in their set for the day. “Dude. This is insane.”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

“Kurt, you got a secret sugar daddy or something?” Frankie said. “Cause I’m still spooked out.”

“I’m just as clueless as you,” Kurt said, half lying. He knew exactly who gave him the guitar. What he didn’t know was why, or where he was. 

“Who’s gonna play it?” Mikey asked.

“I don’t know, I guess you and Mouse can figure that out,” Kurt said. 

“Nu-uh, I wanna play it!” Frankie pouted. 

“You can’t even play!” Mikey said.

“I found it first! And I could learn. If you did, I certainly can,” Frankie said back.

“Come on guys, no fighting, please? If you guys can’t decide I’ll have to give it back,” Kurt announced.

A collective “what?!” came from the rats. 

Mikey tapped Frankie on the shoulder and whispered something to her. Frankie rolled her eyes and nodded in agreement. 

“You should play it, Kurt. It’s addressed to you anyway,” Mikey said, handing the archtop to Kurt.

“That’s very adult of you, but I don’t think that’s the best choice. I mean for starters, none of you could play half the songs on drums, and second, I think we’re overlooking a very capable candidate. Mouse.” Kurt handed the guitar over to Mouse, which looked huge strapped around his body. 

“I can’t play,” Mouse said. 

“BS. You could learn in like an hour,” Frankie said. “You got it, dude.”

Kurt smiled proudly at the group. “Unfortunately, he’ll have to stick to the uke today, but I’ll run down to the library tomorrow morning to grab some new stuff. We can have a break day tomorrow teaching Mouse.”

Mouse beamed up at Kurt, strumming the guitar in awe of the fullness of the sound. “Thanks,” Mouse said, struggling to stop smiling. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Kurt spotted a figure getting up from a table at a pizza place. 

“I’ll be right back,” Kurt said, dashing off towards the person. “Hey! Wait!”

The boy turned around and saw Kurt running after him, and he stopped to wait. 

“What the _hell_ , man?” Kurt said as he caught his breath. 

“I’m sorry?” The barista looked like that wasn’t the reaction he was hoping for. 

“I don’t need your charity, and I’m not buying whatever kind of philanthropist shit you think you’re doing to make yourself feel like a good citizen or whatever. We’re not your community service for whatever private college you go to, and now I’m going to have to tell my kid that he can’t have the guitar. You made me his hopes up, and now I’m going to have to take it away because we don’t just accept presents from privileged-”

“Woah, chill,” the barista said. Kurt was blanking on his name. “That’s not what I’m doing, and you’re not going to have to do anything, because you’re keeping the guitar.”

“Then what’s your angle here?” Kurt said, not letting his guard down. He turned around to see the rats looking at him with concerned expressions, and he tried to calm himself down.

“My angle? I don’t have any angle. My roommate is getting a new guitar and I figured instead of keeping that one or donating it to charity or whatever I’d give it to someone I actually know.”

“You don’t know me,” Kurt said through his teeth. 

“I know of you,” the barista replied calmly. 

“Then you buying me coffee? What was that about? People don’t just buy coffee for strangers they’ve only seen like _once_ and never had a conversation with.”

“I just like your music and wanted to express that by helping you out. Surprisingly, some people just do things out of kindness and compassion. There’s not always some selfish motive behind everything,” the barista said. 

Kurt scoffed at that last part. Of course, there was a selfish motive behind everything. That’s just human nature. 

“My roommates and I went to high school together and we were around music constantly. It’s, well, it’s refreshing to see these kids enjoying music as much as I did, as much as I _do_ , even though… parts of their lives might not be as enjoyable,” he continued.

“You don’t know these kids,” Kurt said. 

“Yeah, no, totally. Sorry.”

Kurt looked down at his hands, realizing he might have been too harsh on the guy. Kurt wasn’t used to people actually seeing them as people who have likes and dislikes, and not just another bunch of homeless kids. 

“Do. Do… you wanna sit down?” The barista said, gesturing to the pizza place.

“I gotta perform,” Kurt said flatly. 

“Oh.”

They stood in silence. 

“Can I get your number or something?” The barista asked.

“I don’t have a phone.”

“Oh,” he said, rubbing his arm. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Kurt said, giving the boy an unnatural smile. “Thank you. For the guitar. It’s completely unnecessary what you did and I’ll give it back to you if you want it back whenever…”

“I want you guys to have it,” the barista insisted. “Well. Have a good… show… I guess. I hope I… see you around.”

“Yeah, see you around,” Kurt said, turning on his heel.

“I’m Blaine by the way,” the barista called out. 

Blaine. That was the name. 

“Kurt,” he replied. 

“I know. I mean, I remember from the café. Sorry, that was super creepy,” Blaine said. 

“You’re good,” he said, starting to walk away. Glancing over his shoulder, Kurt saw Blaine hadn’t moved. “You got somewhere to be?” Kurt asked.

“What? Oh, not really. It’s Saturday, so I don’t have classes,” Blaine mumbled. “Could I maybe stay and watch you guys for a bit?”

“Uh, sure,” Kurt said. 

“Great!” Blaine replied cheerfully.

They walked back to the rest of the band.

“Guys, this is Blaine. He’s the one who gave us the guitar,” Kurt said. 

Everyone smiled and waved. 

“Thanks a lot for the guitar dude,” Mikey said. “It’s amazing. I’m Mikey by the way.”

“No problem, and hello,” Blaine said. 

Kurt handed Blaine a bucket, which Blaine looked incredibly confused about. 

“To sit,” Kurt explained. Blaine gave him an “oh” and tucked the stool under him, sitting down.

“I’m Mouse,” Mouse said, putting a capo on his uke.

Blaine smiled kindly at Mouse. Everyone looked at Frankie, expecting her to make an introduction.

“Sorry, hi, I’m Frankie,” she said. 

“We know what’s first?” Kurt asked the rats.

They positioned their instruments and Mouse set the archtop in Mikey’s suitcase and sat down with his uke, smiling at Blaine. 

“Two! Two! Three! Four!” Kurt called out, banging his drumsticks together on tempo. 

The band started playing a Swedish rock song that Kurt found a few months ago, and a smile lit up Blaine’s face. 

Kurt watched as Blaine hit his bucket to the beat of the song, feeling the music. Blaine’s fascination with the Subway Rats was still a mystery to Kurt. It’s not like they were incredibly unique in any way, just a few kids playing music on the street.

As the song came to a close, Blaine rushed to his feet in applause. Kurt happily noticed Blaine’s presence as an audience member attracted a couple to stay and listen as well, and they clapped with Blaine. 

“That was amazing,” Blaine said. “Next to go, though, is that keyboard, my friend,” Blaine said to Frankie. 

Frankie giggled a little in reply. “We’re saving up,” she said.

“I actually have to get to work, but this was, amazing,” Blaine said. “You all have truly got a gift.”

Kurt gave him a wave as Blaine scooted the bucket back towards them. “Enjoy the guitar, you guys,” Blaine said. “See you,” He said to Kurt. Kurt gave a small smile.

A collection of thank yous and goodbyes came from the rats as Blaine disappeared into the sea of busy people. 

“What a day!” Frankie said. 

“Which isn’t over yet,” Kurt said. “Come on, we still got a whole set to do.”


	3. Chapter 3

They sat down with their dinner, but Mouse and Mikey had abandoned their food quickly as they began Mouse’s first guitar lesson. 

Mouse’s face was practically glowing from excitement as he adjusted how he held the guitar according to Mikey’s instructions. He tucked loose strands of his hair behind his ears. _Time to see Ricardo for haircuts soon_ , Kurt thought.

Frankie sat with Kurt, leaning against a pillar, picking at her food.

“Hungry?” Kurt asked.

“Nah, not really,” Frankie said. “It’s just, don’t you think it’s weird? That guy, Blaine, giving us his guitar?”

Kurt stared at his food, trying to focus on the flavor rather than Frankie’s question. “I don’t think so. Unordinary, probably. But I think it was out of kindness.”

“Yeah, probably,” Frankie said. She tried to hide a smile. “That’s not a normal thing, right?”

“What?”

“Guys giving people like us big donations like that?” Frankie turned to look at Kurt. She stirred her food, almost like it would give her a better answer than Kurt could.

“I guess not, but what the hell do I know,” Kurt said. He stood up and threw his empty cup in the trash bag. 

“Hey, was that the same guy who gave us that ten dollar bill that one time?” Mouse called over.

“I think so,” Kurt said. He knew so.

“I like him,” Mouse said, returning his attention to Mikey and the guitar. Mikey played the air guitar with Mouse as he practiced playing chords. 

“Me too,” Frankie called to Mouse. 

“You’ll have to fight for him then,” Mikey said with a snort.

Frankie slouched on the pillar, “shut up.” Mikey laughed.

Kurt and Frankie winced through Mouse’s first day of guitar lessons, but he was a fast learner. He had basically mastered the ukulele in the three years he had it, but it’s not like his hands were very big, so the guitar was a completely different playing field. 

“I can’t wait to show Blaine my progress!” Mouse said after a long hour of practicing. 

“I hope we can see him soon to show him,” Kurt said. 

“Me too,” Mouse replied.

But they never saw him. For a few days they went out to the Subway station early in hopes of catching Blaine on his way to school; Mouse and Frankie even convinced Kurt to throw in another song or two at the end of the day. After a week or so, the Subway Rats got tired of waiting and wishing, so they went back to their normal schedule, and from what Kurt saw, Blaine had drifted from their minds.

He drifted from Kurt’s mind, too. Of course in the late afternoons when Mouse would practice his guitar for hours on end Kurt had a hard time thinking of anyone but the kind stranger who bought him coffee, but during the day, he went back to his usual habit of worrying about everything else under the sun.

“I’m going to do laundry today,” Kurt said. “Throw everything in the bag.”

Kurt held out a trash bag and watched as everyone threw in all of their clothes they had worn the last few weeks. 

“I’ll be back soon, okay. Do whatever but stay in the hideout.”

“Roger that,” Mouse said, leaping back to his guitar. Mouse almost looked disappointed when he had to play his ukulele for the majority of their songs because he hadn’t learned the guitar part, they hadn’t got one, or Mikey was already playing it. 

Kurt slung the trash bag over his shoulder like Santa Claus and made the walk to the laundromat. There was one about three blocks from the hideout, but it was painfully high-end, so he had to walk an extra eight blocks to get to one that was reasonably priced. 

He hated the walk to the laundromat, which was one of the reasons he didn’t go so often. Sure, the luxury of having clean clothes every week was something they definitely couldn’t afford, but they could prioritize and stretch to make that work, but Kurt also went every few weeks because he hated the feeling of looking homeless. 

He did. Carrying a white see-through trash bag filled with clothes he looked incredibly homeless, and he hated it. When he was playing music, that was different. There was a goal, to entertain themselves, others, and to make money. But here, he was just homeless. Just a kid covered in sweat and dust with a bag of old dirty clothes. 

Kurt poured the clothes into the laundry machine and noticed a crumpled piece of pink paper sticking out the back pocket of his black jeans. He pulled out the sticky note and recognized it immediately as the sticky note Blaine had left on the guitar. 

Kurt laughed at himself for forgetting the note was in the pocket and walked over to the trash can to throw it away before seeing the writing on the back. A set of numbers. A phone number. 

No. Way.

Just as Kurt thought this guy had left him and the rats alone, here was his phone number in Kurt’s hand. 

Kurt slid the sticky note into his back pocket, wishing he had left it in his previous pair of pants and the ink was now smudged beyond readability due to the soap and water. He sat down on the bench in between the rows of washing machines and rested his elbows on his thighs, hands holding his head.

He looked up and ran his hands through his hair three times before he pulled out the note and studied the numbers, the writing, the apparent age of the script and the paper. Kurt refolded the note along the lines he first did when he slid it into his pocket, unfolding it to find the series of numbers still there.

There was no way Kurt was going to call Blaine just because he had found his number on a note from weeks ago. Plus, was there even a phone in this place, anyway? Kurt scanned the room. There was. He couldn’t decide if he was excited or disappointed to see the public phone. 

He stared at the phone, not being able to bring himself to stand.

But did he have money on him? He was going to the laundromat, he _needed_ to have money on him. 

This was ridiculous. He wasn’t going to do it.

 

*

 

“No! It’s not like that,” Blaine cried, “we’re taking it slow, and he’s super chill about it.”

“So, Oscar… is that like Latin American, or Hispanic, or…” Sam said, flinging his arms around trying to come up with every non-offensive term for Latino people. 

“His dad is from Brazil and his mom is from Pennsylvania,” Blaine said proudly, “and he came to New York for college and I think he’s planning to live hereafter.”

“He should move in with us!” Rachel said excitedly.

“No!” Blaine and Sam said together, creating an appalled and disappointed look on Rachel’s face. 

“Well, you should bring him over more often. It’s so nice that you’ve got yourself a boyfriend, Blaine,” Rachel said.

Blaine smiled, “thanks Rachel, it’s really exciting. I’m actually the first boy he’s ever dated.” A phone went off and Blaine recognized it as his. “Speak of the devil!”

Blaine was confused to see the caller ID was unknown. After a few seconds of staring blankly at the screen, he answered. 

“Hello?” Blaine asked.

“Hello? Is this Blaine?”

“Yes, this is he.”

“This is Kurt, uh, from the subway band?” the caller said.

Blaine felt a dozen different emotions fly through his body and he walked out to their front steps, receiving cheesy thumbs up from Rachel who assumed the call was from Oscar.

“Hey, yes, hello,” Blaine said. 

“Thank God I got the right person,” Kurt said. “I was at the laundromat and saw the note you left on the guitar, I, uh, I had completely forgotten about it, and I saw on the back you left your number.”

Blaine contemplated whether he should be proud of or regret his actions. “Yeah, I… did do that!”

“And so I just wanted to call and tell you how I’m really grateful for what you did, really, I can’t say that enough,” Kurt took a breath and silence hung between them for an uncomfortable few seconds, “I’m sorry for being a jerk or whatever that day, I’m just not used to, people donating us guitars, like _at all_.”

Blaine laughed. “I’m so glad. I just, I just wanted to give it a good home.”

“Well Mouse literally hasn’t put it down for a week, so I’d say that it’s loved,” Kurt said. “Well, anyway, I just wanted to say thanks while I wait for our laundry to get done.”

“My pleasure. I’m so happy you guys are enjoying it,” Blaine said through a smile. 

Blaine thought about the passion he had seen in the Subway Rats the first time he saw them perform. Every time he let the group cross his mind, he felt guilty for not doing more. Which, was completely ridiculous given he had already gone miles further for them than any pedestrian had probably done for a group similar to them. Yet, they kept popping back up in Blaine’s life, whether he had initiated it or not, and his repeating communication with Kurt made him feel like there was something else he could, _should_ , be doing for the Subway Rats. 

What was it about them that made Blaine step out of his body and look at their lives, and his, in a way he had never done before? He had lived in New York for over a year now, he wasn’t unused to seeing homeless people, but the youth of the kids and the similarity Blaine saw in Kurt made him think about concepts he had never pondered before. 

Blaine tried not to look at homeless people when he saw them, and that’s what he thought everyone did. If he didn’t look at them, then he wouldn’t feel the guilt or pity or whatever he was supposed to feel. Should he alert Child Protective Services? Was that the right thing to do? Or should he just leave them alone, and not try to meddle with their life. 

It was the eye contact, the first time he saw them, it was the recognition of this person as not just someone who was impoverished, but a real person with a life and a childhood and friends and real emotions, things Blaine had but in such a different way. 

Was he insane for yearning to help these people? Was Kurt right, was he really just trying to make himself feel better? Or was it something else entirely...

“Would you, would you want to have dinner at my apartment one time? Actually, never mind, that’s really weird--” 

“Um, yeah, maybe, sure. Could I bring the kids? They, they really wanted to thank you again in person. We’ve missed you at Greenpoint Avenue.” Kurt said.

“Yes! Of course. I’d love to meet them. And, you, I guess.”

“Cool,” Kurt said.

“Cool,” Blaine muttered. “So like, sometime this week? I’ll have to get my roommates out of the house for an afternoon.”

“Yeah, I don’t, really keep track of the days that well…”

“Can I just call you tomorrow?” Blaine asked.

“What day is today again?”

Blaine checked his watch. “Friday.”

“Can we just come over tomorrow?”

Blaine rushed inside the apartment and pulled up his calendar on his laptop, “I have to work until noon, so yeah, if you want to come over around like six?”

“Yeah, that’s cool. The time, but also, you inviting us over. The kids are going to be ecstatic… I think Frankie has a little crush on you…”

Blaine laughed, “can I give you my address?”

“Can you just pick us up at Greenpoint Avenue? We usually play until six anyway.”

“Yeah, ok,” Blaine said. “See you then.”

“See you then,” Kurt said. “I… I really appreciate everything you’re doing, or you’ve done for us. Going out of your way or whatever, the kids have been really happy this past month.”

“Hearing that makes me happy,” Blaine said. “I’m honored to have made a difference in their lives.”

“Well, see you tomorrow,” Kurt said. “Bye.”

Kurt hung up before Blaine could say anything else, and Blaine put his phone down. He exhaled, and tried to process everything that just happened during the conversation, but also what went on in his head during it. 

“Who was that?” Sam asked.

Instead of answering, Blaine said, “you guys have any plans tomorrow afternoon?”

“I don’t think so,” Rachel said. 

“Well make some.”


	4. Chapter 4

The air was starting to get chillier as summer left for good and New York’s cold autumn was in full force. Blaine grabbed a scarf on his way out the door, his apartment quiet and still. He made sure he had his phone and wallet on him, giving one last scan of the room before he closed the door and headed outside. 

He walked with his hands in his pockets, noticing how it was just cold enough to where someone could say “wow, it’s cold out,” and everyone with them would nod and frown, but not cold enough to where people would be canceling their plans in the first place. 

Then Blaine started thinking about how the winter weather would affect the Subway Rats. It was probably a lot worse for them than it was for him.

Every time Blaine used Kurt and the band as a juxtaposition for his problems he immediately felt guilty for doing so. It was a chain of actions and reactions he wished he would stop having to go through. 

His apartment was nine blocks from the Greenpoint subway station, which was a nice distance for Blaine to feel good about getting some exercise without dreading the extent of the walk. 

For some reason, he felt really nervous for the dinner with the Subway Rats. A million questions and horrible possible outcomes swirled around in Blaine’s mind, and he tried his best to quiet them down but there was only one him and millions of them.

When he caught sight of the Greenpoint station, the Subway Rats were lounging around, their instruments packed away. Blaine jogged up to them, checking his watch. 5:58.

“Am I late?” Blaine asked, partially joking, hoping he had the right time.

“No we just finished early,” Kurt said.

“Well, you ready to head back?” Blaine put his hands back in his pockets. He eyed Kurt’s sleeveless t-shirt, wondering how he wasn’t cold. 

“Shit,” Kurt said. “We gotta run back our stuff.”

“Oh, I can help you bring them over, it’s no big deal…”

“I’d rather just bring them back to our place first. It’s just less of a pain,” Kurt started to gather his drums and motioned for the rest of the kids to do the same. 

_Our place._ That seemed weird for him to say to Blaine, and he started wondering about their living situation… “ok, that’s cool. I just feel like they would be safer where you can see them,” Blaine said. 

“They’re safe at our place,” Kurt replied flatly. 

“Well, can I at least help you out?” Blaine said, grabbing the buckets they used for seats. 

“Looks like it,” the older boy, what was his name… Mikey said. 

Blaine let himself laugh as he tucked the buckets under his arms. He looked up and locked eyes with Kurt, his bare arms wrapped around his equipment, who gave Blaine an expressionless face that could only mean Kurt was analyzing him. Blaine tried his best to look like anything but the helpless person he felt like.

“You got it?” The girl asked Blaine as they started in the direction of their home.

Blaine nodded, adjusting his grip. “Remind me of your name?”

“Frankie,” she said. 

“Ah yes, I knew it was something like that.”

Blaine caught Kurt glancing back at them, shaking his head and laughing to himself. Blaine furrowed his brows and readjusted the buckets. “My roommates and I got a real big piano at a flea market last year,” Blaine told Frankie, who had ended up walking next to him. Oh right, this was the girl who had a crush on Blaine. He couldn’t wait to tell Oscar about her, he’d just love that.

“Really?” Frankie said, her eyes lighting up. “Can I play it?”

“Of course!” Blaine said. 

“Can you play?” She asked.

“Piano? Sure can. I’ve taken lessons since I was really little, and I hated it so much, but now piano is one of the only things that gives me pure joy,” Blaine said, smiling at Frankie.

“Me too,” Frankie said. “I took lessons and thought it was stupid, but now I’m the only one in this group who has any basic knowledge of music theory.”

“I heard that!” Kurt called out from the front of the pack, still facing forward. “Not true, by the way.”

Mouse, the younger one, who was walking ahead of Blaine and Frankie, turned around and said: “I’m getting really good on your guitar!”

“Awesome,” Blaine said. “ _Your_ guitar, you mean.”

“Right, _my_ guitar.” The kid seemed to like how the words rolled off the tongue. That made Blaine’s stomach turn from pride and joy. 

They walked the next block in relative quietness, and when Kurt took a sharp turn into a parking lot, Blaine was confused. 

“Renovated high-end parking by 2011,” Blaine read. “That was like six, no, seven years ago.”

“It’s BS,” Kurt said. “The thing has been untouched for a decade.”

Blaine took notice of the harsh and quick comments Kurt spit at him. This Kurt wasn’t anything like the buy he had talked on the phone with last night, who was awkward and thankful and kind. But, then again, Blaine was putting on a show too, trying to present himself as humble, and well, approachable, which he certainly could be the opposite of at times. He just who Kurt was putting on a show for. Himself? The kids? Blaine? Maybe all three. 

They walked up a staircase and arrived in the home of the Subway Rats. Blaine was in awe. Half of the floor was covered in chalk, their beds neatly made in a corner and boxes, bags, and buckets that all appeared to be filled with things lined the wall. 

“Welcome to the hideout,” Mouse said proudly. 

Anyone passing by would never know that people were living here since they had all their stuff on the third floor. It was truly a secret hideout. 

They all walked over to a lineup of empty suitcases and set their instruments inside, zipping them up safely. 

“You guys do art, too?” Blaine said, gesturing to the chalk-covered walls. 

“Just for fun,” Mouse explained. “Those ones are mine,” Mouse pointed to an area of city skylines and food drawings. “And those, too,” he added, pointing to a pillar covered in doodles. 

“That’s amazing!” Blaine said. He was genuinely impressed by the kid’s talent and creativity.

Kurt, Frankie, and Mikey walked over to them.

“You didn’t tell me Mouse was an artist,” Blaine said to Kurt, eyeing Mouse’s chalk drawings.

“Mouse is a boy,” Kurt said firmly. “You should know that.”

“Oh,” Blaine muttered. He looked over at Mouse. “Thanks.”

Blaine had guessed Mouse was a girl by his feminine figure but tried to avoid referencing his gender because of Blaine’s uncertainty. 

“You gonna show us where to go?” Kurt asked, gathered at the stairs with the rest of the kids. 

“Yeah, yes.” Blaine walked over and followed them down the stairs. 

The top floor of the small parking lot did provide some shelter for them, and Blaine noticed how it was slightly chillier when the wind had more direct access to his face. The Subway Rats were really making the best of what they had. 

Blaine walked back the direction they came from, taking the lead. 

Kurt caught up to him at the next traffic light, pulling on a jacket he grabbed. “Thanks for not saying anything,” Kurt said quietly. Kurt looked back to make sure that the kids wouldn’t overhear his and Blaine’s conversation.

“About Mouse? No, of course…” Blaine replied. 

“I mean, yes about Mouse, but also about the ‘hideout,’” Kurt made air quotes around hideout.

“Why would I say anything?” Blaine was confused. What was Kurt getting at?

“Just because, I know we live in a parking lot, and you don’t.”

Blaine understood. He nodded. 

“Those kids really look up to you,” Blaine said. 

“Yeah, but now they’re all in love with you!” Kurt exclaimed. 

“I’m sorry.”

Kurt kicked a rock with his foot and looked back at the others again. “Don’t be sorry. It’s good for them.”

Blaine nodded again, sliding his hands into his pockets. He didn’t want to be thought of like a celebrity making a guest appearance in a children’s hospital, but he took Kurt’s comment as a good thing. “If you don’t mind me asking, how long have you…”

Kurt picked up Blaine’s question. “I’ve been on the streets for eight years, but we’ve been in that place for a couple months.”

“And these kids, are they your siblings? Are they, actually _your_ kids?” Blaine asked. The questions started pouring out of him, and he realized he was probably overstepping.

“No, no. They’re just kids who, well, let’s just say they were doing a lot worse before I found them. We’ve been through a lot together, though.”

“Oh,” was all Blaine could say in reply.

They stopped at a traffic light and Blaine looked over at Kurt. Kurt stood with his arms crossed, a strong stance, eyes glued to the road.

“How do you keep yourself so composed?” Blaine asked. He knew he was overstepping. 

“Huh?” Kurt glanced quickly over at Blaine but then quickly looked back at the traffic. 

“I just mean, you don’t seem phased at all. Like your situation is normal, which, it isn’t,” Blaine said. The light turned green and they crossed the street, checking to make sure they had everyone. Blaine wished he hadn’t said that. “Actually, I’m sorry--”

“I’ve had a long time to think about my situation. Sleepless nights spent crying, days without food, weeks without a roof over my head. It’s not like this, my ‘situation’, is anything new. These kids, this band, the goddamn parking lot even, those are the best things to ever happen to me since my whole ‘situation.’ And, I know for you, this is the first time you’ve had a conversation with someone who is homeless that wasn’t just you apologizing for not giving some spare change, but that’s been my reality for a good chunk of my life, and I’ve accepted it. I’ve moved on. Can you just do the same, at least for tonight?”

Kurt took a deep breath, trying to focus his eyes anywhere but Blaine.

Blaine didn’t know what to say. So far, everything he’s said was apparently wrong, and after this boy completely opened himself up to Blaine, he had no response. He looked up at the street sign. Only four more blocks until his apartment.

“This is your house?” Mouse said brightly as they entered Blaine’s neighborhood. 

“Not that one, but we’re close,” Blaine said. 

Blaine watched as Kurt looked at the townhouses that appeared to be squished together an irrational amount. 

They hopped up the stairs and Blaine turned the key to his apartment, happy to find that it was still empty. 

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Blaine said. 

 

*

 

Kurt entered Blaine’s apartment with wide eyes, plants and instruments filling every corner of the small space. The cramped layout and aging furniture reminded Kurt of his childhood house an uncomfortable amount. 

“Dang,” Mikey said. “This is pretty nice.”

“Thanks, man,” Blaine said. “Feel free to have a look around. Make yourselves at home.”

Kurt noticed Blaine wince at his own comment, as he had done the entire night like he thought every word he chose could’ve been better. 

Kurt ran his hand over the sofa, taking in the television, massive fridge and oven, and the photos and art lining the walls. He felt like he was intruding. He felt unwanted, out of place. 

Mouse sat down on the sofa and closed his eyes in content. “Very comfy,” he said, which made Blaine laugh. 

Frankie pulled Mikey towards the piano.

“Mind if I use your bathroom?” Kurt asked. Blaine smiled and nodded in reply. 

Kurt couldn’t remember the last real bathroom he used that wasn’t inside of a store or restaurant. He didn’t even use it, just stared at the shower, the mirror covered walls, the drawers that were probably full of things they would never use. It was like he was in a museum like this was all a set, a replica of a real life. 

He flushed the toilet to make it seem like he used the bathroom and emerged to find Blaine hard at work in the tiny corner kitchen. Kurt took a seat at their kitchen table.

“I’ve got some salad that I made earlier today that I can bring out now, and I’m cooking pasta as we speak,” Blaine said, waiting for water to boil. “If that’s ok? I can easily do something else, let me see what we have…”

“That’s fine,” Kurt said, “that’s great. The kids love Italian.”

Blaine smiled proudly. “Great!” He carefully put noodles into the water and opened his fridge. “I’m not the most amazing chef, but I do pride myself on my vegetable chopping abilities. Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Oh, no thanks,” Kurt said. He felt like he was the child now, sitting down waiting for dinner to be made. What was he doing?

“You sure? Some water, or juice… I even have some wine…” Blaine said with a smirk.

Kurt sighed in defeat. “Some water would be _lovely,_ ” he replied, using the word sarcastically. 

“That’s what I thought. Take some salad.”

Kurt looked around the room again, listening to Frankie, Mikey, and Mouse run around the place. Hopefully, they didn’t steal anything. Blaine poured Kurt a glass of water from a pitcher in his fridge. It was probably filtered.

“Should I call them in?” Kurt asked. 

“No, give them a few more minutes. My amazing interior design skills just need to be appreciated,” Blaine said, stirring the pasta. Kurt could tell he was more comfortable now that he was in his place.

Kurt mustered a small laugh. He had to admit the guy was charming, he obviously understood how awkward the situation was for both of them. Kurt didn’t think that either of them saw the uncomfortableness coming when they planned the dinner the night before. Stupid.

“I know this feels a little weird,” Kurt said, hopefully lowering the strange vibes by pointing them out. 

“What’s weird about it?” Blaine asked. Christ. Of course, he wasn’t feeling it. Blaine seemed to be immune to any emotion other than joy and shame. 

“Never mind,” Kurt said, taking a sip of his water. He let the ice cold fluid wash down his throat like a breath of relief. Ice cold filtered water, Kurt decided, could make any situation better. 

“You can relax, Kurt. Put your tough guy guard down,” Blaine paused. “I heard what you had to say earlier. You were right. Look, what I’m trying to tell you is that I live a very sheltered New York life, and you, you don’t. That’s just how it is right now. But I’ve invited you over here to show both of us that in reality, we’re just people, and people, no matter where they live, often have incredibly uncomfortable dinner parties.”

Kurt smiled into his drink, trying to hide his grin from Blaine.

“Just let yourself _be,_ for once. You can let go of whatever you’re trying so hard to be,” Blaine said. “And eat some salad while you’re at it.”

Mouse came bursting into the kitchen and plopped down in the seat next to Kurt. “Is it dinner time?”

“Almost,” Blaine said. 

Kurt gave himself and Mouse a few scoops of salad. He had a feeling that there wouldn’t be any left at the end of the night. 

“I have a bunch of dressings that are on the table too. Help yourself,” Blaine added.

Kurt eyed the selection of salad flavors, recognizing half of the options. He drizzled some Italian and tasted it, then gave it to Mouse. “You’ll like this one,” Kurt said. 

Mikey came into the kitchen, followed by Frankie. “Can I use the bathroom?” Frankie asked.

“Go right ahead,” Blaine replied. “I also have butter, red sauce, and alfredo for the pasta. Not sure what you guys would want. Oh, and salt too.”

Mikey took a seat at the head of the table in a chair that didn’t fit in with the rest of the chairs. Kurt guessed Blaine had taken it out for them. He grinned. _Stop smiling._

Mouse turned to Kurt and whispered, “I bet Frankie just went to the bathroom so Mikey wouldn’t sit next to her and she could sit next to Blaine.”

Kurt laughed. “Yeah I bet,” he whispered back. 

“Who’s hungry?” Blaine cheered, passing out bowls of swirly noodles. 

Enormous smiles spread across the faces of the Mouse and Mikey as they each reached for a bowl. 

“Can I have spaghetti sauce?” Mouse asked.

Frankie came out of the bathroom and took the last seat, smiling as she noticed it was next to Blaine. Kurt rolled his eyes. She was too easy. 

Everyone prepared their food and Blaine gave everyone a glass of water. 

A phone notification dinged and Blaine looked at his phone. “Oh, I’ll be right back. Dig in!”

With permission granted, the kids dove into their meals, shoving salad and pasta into their mouths. “This is amazing!” Frankie said. 

Kurt started to eat his pasta, wondering who Blaine hurried off to talk to. 

He returned within a minute, tucking his phone back into his pocket. “Sorry, I’m back. Is the food any good?”

“Delicious!” Mikey said, slurping a forkful of pasta. 

Blaine gave Kurt a small smile, acknowledging the silly energy of the three other band members. Kurt returned the smile.

“What school do you go to?” Kurt asked Blaine.

“NYU,” Blaine said proudly. “I’m a sophomore.”

“Woah,” Mouse said. “That’s a good school.”

Blaine nodded slowly, “yeah. It took a lot of hard work, but now I’m here, in the greatest city on Earth.”

“Sophomore,” Kurt said, “so that’d make you 19?”

“20,” Blaine corrected. “Almost legal!”

Mikey laughed. “I’m only 15.”

“Me too,” Frankie added.

“Shut up, at least you guys are teenagers,” Mouse said. 

“You’re a _tween,_ ” Mikey said mockingly. 

“Seriously guys?” Kurt said. Mikey went back to his food. “What are you studying?” Kurt asked Blaine.

“Music. I want to do music in whatever way I can,” Blaine said, stirring his pasta. “I love it.” 

“Us too,” Kurt said. He looked around Blaine’s apartment again, taking note of the piano in the middle of the living room, the guitar hanging on the wall, and record player near the front door. Something they had in common: music. 

Kurt looked down at his food, trying desperately to think of something to say next. 

“I love watching you guys play,” Blaine said. “Honestly, the pure energy you guys put out is infectious. It’s breathtaking.”

“Thanks,” Mikey said. “We’re just having fun.”

“I’m honored to have the one and only Subway Rats over. Truly,” Blaine mimed a tip of the hat and grinned. If anything was infectious it was this guy’s smile. 

“Well thank you for having us. It means a lot that you reached out,” Kurt said. 

“Actually you--” 

Kurt shot Blaine a look that said _don’t say another word._ Kurt didn’t really know why he didn’t want Blaine telling the story of Kurt’s laundromat adventure, but he had told the kids that Blaine brought it up when they talked the day he gave them guitar.

“Do you have any more noodles?” Mikey asked, gesturing to his empty bowl.

Blaine gave a small laugh. “No, that’s it.”

Mikey scrunched his face. “That’s ok.” He went back to his salad. 

“I’m glad you liked it,” Blaine said.

“Have you always lived in New York?” Frankie asked Blaine.

“Actually I grew up in Ohio. I moved here for college, well, not _for_ college, but I’ve been up here _since_ college.”

“I’ve lived here my whole life,” Frankie said. 

“I was born in Maryland,” Mouse said. “But I don’t remember anywhere but Brooklyn.”

“Me too,” Mikey said, giving Mouse a nudge to the shoulder. “Safe in New York City.”

“Hey!” Blaine exclaimed. “That’s that AC/DC song!”

Mikey’s face lit up. “Yeah! You like them?”

“I idolized them,” Blaine said, almost leaping out of his seat. “God, when I was little all I wanted was to be a famous rock star.”

“Didn’t we all,” Kurt said. 

“We are rockstars, are you kidding?” Mouse said, showing off his new guitar skills by presenting his finest air guitar. 

“Hell yeah,” Blaine said. 

“Hell yeah,” Kurt echoed. 

Blaine looked around the table and noticed that most people had finished their food. “Can I take those bowls away from you guys?” He stood up and collected everyone's bowls and plates, and refiled Frankie’s water. “I have some grocery store brownies if you guys are still hungry?”

“Uh, duh!” Mouse said, rushing up to meet Blaine by the brownies. He handed one to Frankie and Mikey.

“Kurt?”

“I’m good,” Kurt replied. “Actually, we should probably be heading back.”

“Oh,” Frankie said, disappointed. “Yeah, you’re right.”

The thought of returning back to a parking lot floor when they just spent an hour in a beautiful New York apartment seemed awful. 

“You sure?” Blaine asked. “My roommates won’t be back for another few hours. 

“No, I think it’s best we head out,” Kurt said. 

Kurt didn’t really understand his motives for rushing them out the door. He convinced himself it was because he didn’t want to overstay his visit, but it was probably because he didn’t want the kids to get used to a normal life so that they’d all be sad when they returned to their reality. Or that Kurt wouldn’t be sad… no, it wasn’t that. 

“Again, thank you, for everything,” Kurt said. “Come on guys. Say goodbye.”

“Bye Blaine,” Mikey said, giving Blaine a hug. 

“Bye.” Frankie gave Blaine a tight hug. 

“See you,” Mouse said.

“I still gotta see you shred that guitar,” Blaine said. 

Mouse returned to his animated state. “Totally.”

“I’ll meet you rats out there,” Kurt said as Blaine opened the door, Mikey, Frankie, and Mouse slowly making their way out. “Look,” Kurt started, “I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done for us. For me, for them. It’s beyond anything I would ever think could happen in this city. But I think it’s best if we go our separate ways.”

“Oh,” Blaine said. “Can I ask why?”

“It’s just, you’re remarkable, and… I don’t really know how to say this. I don’t want to set the three of them up for disappointment thinking that there are people like you who will want to treat us like actual human beings. Because that’s just not gonna happen. You’re, you’re one of the most compassionate people I’ve ever met, but we both know how weird it would be if you kept in touch with us because at the end of the day we go back to sleeping bags and you come home to this. I just want to protect them. I know that’s a weird thing to say.”

“I get it,” Blaine nodded. “I get that.”

Kurt staggered forward to give Blaine a hug, and an unpleasant back-and-forth-hug-or-not debacle ensued. They ended up hugging.

“Thank you,” Kurt whispered. “For everything.”

“Hurry up it’s freezing!” Mikey yelled from outside.

Kurt felt Blaine hold on to him for a second longer.

“Maybe see you at Greenpoint,” Kurt said, mustering a smile.

“See you at Greenpoint,” Blaine replied, returning the solemn smile.


	5. Chapter 5

Blaine decided it was best for everyone if he didn’t tell anyone, Rachel, Sam, or Oscar, about the dinner that night. 

As he washed dishes and put back the half-serving of salad that remained, he tried to come to the reality that his adventures with the Subway Rats were over. It wasn’t even just the amazing people that the four of them were, but that was certainly a big part of it, it was that Blaine felt like there was some big special experience that he was a part of. And just like that, it was over. 

It’s not like he even knew any of them that well, the only person he had more than two proper conversations with was Kurt, and Blaine still didn’t know his last name. 

Blaine collapsed onto the sofa and pulled out his phone to see a new text from Oscar asking if he wanted to grab a coffee before school. He smiled at the text, remembering the other adventure he was on. 

The truth was, Oscar was the first boyfriend Blaine had ever had. He was the first person Blaine dated in general, not counting some girl in sixth grade. He hadn’t told Oscar about his lack of dating experience because he wanted to impress him, make Oscar think that he was some cool popular guy. 

Blaine replied to the text with a yes and a smiley face. He had the apartment to himself for the next hour or two before Sam and Rachel got back from the karaoke bar they went to. Blaine fidgeted on the sofa, unsure what he should do with himself. 

He turned on the TV and watched a cooking competition show until he fell asleep on the sofa, and was woken up by his drunk roommates an hour later. 

“Blaaaaaine,” Rachel said. “Wake up!”

Blaine rolled over, rubbing his eyes and adjusting to the light. “What?”

“You enjoy your date?” Sam said, catching Rachel who was tripping over everything in sight. 

Oh, right. Blaine had told them that he was having Oscar over that night. “Yeah, it was great,” Blaine said. 

“Did you… do the nasty?” Rachel asked, wiggling her eyebrows and laughing at her own question.

“Oh, no. No. Just dinner, and he left because… early classes tomorrow.”

“Too bad,” Rachel said. “You know I’m gonna steal him from you.”

“I think it’s bedtime,” Sam said, leading Rachel to her bed. “Round of Halo?” Sam asked back to Blaine.

“I think I’m gonna call it a night,” Blaine said, his head still fuzzy from his nap.

“Ok. Night, dude,” Sam said. 

“Night.”

 

*

 

“Hello, gorgeous!” Oscar exclaimed when he saw Blaine in the café. Blaine gave him a kiss on the cheek and stepped into line. 

“You seem happy,” Blaine said. 

“I did well on that lang test, which probably is going to put me in a good mood for the rest of the semester,” Oscar joked. 

“I’m glad,” Blaine said. They both placed their order, giving each other a look when they heard each other order their regulars. 

“You good?” Oscar asked. 

“Yeah, just tired. I had a rough sleep last night,” Blaine replied.

They grabbed their hot drinks and stepped back into the crisp air. Their favorite coffee shop was only a few blocks from school, and they had gone almost every day either before or after classes. 

Blaine grabbed Oscar’s cold hand in his and took a sip of coffee with the other. He loved the feeling of Oscar’s hand in his, the human contact that made Blaine feel safe and loved. 

“What?” Oscar said, noticing Blaine’s giggles. 

“Nothing. I just love being with you.” Blaine realized he almost just said “I love you,” which was definitely not something he was ready to say, to anyone for that matter. 

“So, listen,” Oscar said, swinging their hands. “My friend from high school, Leo, who goes to Columbia, is throwing this big party the night before Thanksgiving. A few people from school are going, and since it’s at Leo’s frat house, and I’m kinda one of his best friends, I can kind of _invite_ some people to go. I know it’s still a few weeks away…”

Blaine felt the smile creep across his face. “And?”

“Do you wanna go with me?” Oscar asked, radiating happiness and a little bit of anxiousness. 

“Parties aren’t really my thing…” Blaine muttered, smirking at Oscar’s disappointed look. “Of course I’ll go with you!”

“You scared me, Jesus!” Oscar said. “This is going to be awesome. We’ll dance, get drunk, maybe have a little fun…” he smirked, and Blaine rolled his eyes. 

They walked onto campus with their half-finished coffees and wide grins, still holding hands. 

The Subway Rats hadn’t crossed Blaine’s mind once. 

 

*

 

Kurt stood by the boy's bathroom, Frankie and Mikey roaming the aisles of the supermarket shopping for food. He hummed a tune and read the ingredients in some weird kids drink until Mouse popped his head out of the bathroom.

He looked like he was about to cry. “Can you go get Frankie?” Mouse said, biting the inside of his cheek. 

Kurt set down the drinks. “What? Why?”

“Just, go get her. Now. Please,” Mouse sniffled and ducked back into the bathroom.

Frankie noticed the startled look on Kurt’s face. “Come on. Mouse is asking for you, I think something’s wrong.”

They ran back to the bathroom. 

“I can’t go in, it’s the _boy's_ bathroom,” Frankie said through her teeth. “Ugh, whatever.”

Kurt knocked on the door and Mouse pulled Frankie inside. Kurt stood outside, trying to listen to their conversation. 

“Let me see,” Kurt heard Frankie say. That was all he could hear. 

Frankie poked her head out of the door. “Go get tampons,” she said. Frankie gave Kurt a look that had all the information about the situation.

Kurt felt his stomach drop. He felt heavy, unable to move, but he did. He forced himself to locate the tampons and grabbed the cheapest box, ripping open the package and sprinting back to the bathroom. A day Kurt prayed would never come had arrived. Mouse had gotten his period. 

“Here,” Kurt said, handing Frankie the open box. “I’ll be out here if you need anything.”

“Thanks,” Frankie replied, closing the door. 

Kurt had no idea what to do. He stood outside the bathroom, trying to occupy his brain with anything in his surroundings. Soda. Fruit. Bagels. More soda. So many different types of soda. 

He kept coming back to Mouse: Mouse, the kindest and most gentle spirit Kurt had ever known. A tiny child who had been thrown out of his home because he insisted he was a boy. Because he wanted to cut his hair short and use the boy's bathroom, be on the boy's team during PE, just exist as himself. But that was too much to ask, apparently. 

Kurt couldn’t even imagine the emotions and trauma Mouse was experiencing right now, so Kurt tried his best to stay calm, and to present himself as a leader. As someone Mouse could confide in for comfort. 

The things Blaine had said to Kurt a few nights ago burst into his head like unwanted guests at a party. How Kurt should let his guard down and exist as a normal human. But he was wrong. That stupid college boy knew nothing about Kurt’s life, about what he’s been through. Nothing about his life was normal. Not living on the streets, not having his mom die, not watching his dad fall apart in front of his eyes, not taking care of a trans kid who would never afford to have top surgery or take hormones. It wasn’t normal.

Mouse would have to go through the rest of his life looking like and being treated like someone he wasn’t. That wasn’t normal.

Kurt started to think about the future of the kids, of himself, if they would ever get a real place to live, or end up in the system, or live the rest of their lives in the stupid parking lot.

He wanted to punch something. More, though, Kurt wanted to cry. He stared up at the fluorescent lighting of the supermarket until the urge went away. He swore to himself that he would never cry in front of the kids. 

A few minutes later, Frankie emerged from the bathroom, leaning against the door as she closed it. She exhaled. 

“How’d it go?” Kurt asked. 

“There were lots of tears. It was pretty stressful but at least he isn’t leaking anymore.”

“How is he?” Kurt looked at the bathroom door, waiting for Mouse to come out.

“Pretty freaked. He’ll be okay. Just have to adjust,” Frankie said, wiping the remains of tears from her eyes. “I feel really bad for him,” she added.

“Yeah,” Kurt said. “Me too.”

Mouse stepped outside the bathroom, his eyes and nose puffy from crying. Kurt stepped forward and pulled Mouse into a hug, closing his eyes in an attempt to transfer energy and love from Kurt’s body to Mouse’s. 

“Kurt?” Mouse said quietly. “Can we go home? I’m not wearing any underwear.”

Kurt smiled. This kid. 

“Yeah. We’ll go get Mikey and check out.” 

Mouse took Kurt’s hand and held it until they were back at the hideout.

Frankie sat with Mouse to talk to him and answer his questions, and with permission, Mikey played the archtop guitar while Kurt made a fire. 

“It’s getting so cold. I hate it,” Mikey said.

“Me too,” Kurt said. “Can’t wear my sleeveless tees every single day,” he added with a smirk. “Have you talked to Mouse yet?”

Mikey shook his head. “I don’t know what I’d say.”

“Just say that you’re here for him. I don’t know, talk bro to bro. You’re the closest thing he’s got to a brother,” Kurt said.

“What about you?”

Kurt shrugged, wrapping his arms around his legs and resting his chin on his knees. “He just needs lots of comfort. He looks up to you, you know?”

Mikey scrunched his face, stretching his fingers to play a chord. “Yeah right. He _worships_ you.”

“I’m serious. All the guitar stuff and you treating him like just a boy who wants to play music is really giving him a lot,” Kurt said, staring at the fire. “So, thanks.”

Mikey ended the chord progression and picked the intro to a song they had played that day. “Is it too early for bed?”

“Never,” Kurt said, still fixated on the small flames. “It’s almost nine.”

“I think I’m going to sleep then,” Mikey said, “or at least lay down.”

Mikey placed the guitar carefully in a suitcase and zipped it safely shut. He crawled over to his sleeping bag, fluffing the pillow before laying down. 

“No kid should ever have to go through what Mouse is,” Mikey said. “Cause it sucks.”

“I guess so,” Kurt replied, not really sure how he felt about Mikey’s statement. 

The image of tiny Mouse with long dark hair appeared in Kurt’s mind, how eager he was to call himself Mouse and not his dead name, to cut his hair, to buy boy clothes at thrift stores. The trauma Mouse had endured in his childhood home would probably remain with him the rest of his life. Maybe not specific memories, but the feeling of constant invalidation and dysphoria would always be connected with his childhood. 

Kurt always tried to do everything he could so that Mouse would be happy in his body. But now, Kurt felt like he had failed. Like because he had raised Mouse as a boy his body would just go along. Turns out it didn’t work like that. 

Kurt watched the fire slowly die, dancing in the unnoticeable wind. He squinted at the heat, not sure what he was trying not to think about.


	6. Chapter 6

Blaine sat with Sam draped over the sofa while Rachel worked on something for school. They were watching one of the old Spiderman movies on some movie channel, but Blaine couldn’t take the commercials any longer so he changed it to a home renovation show.

“I’ve seen this one,” Sam mumbled, reaching for the remote. It was ten in the morning on a Sunday, and no one had any plans. Blaine felt like a rock in another dimension.

Sam turned the TV to a soccer game that was being broadcasted in Spanish, then through a dozen other channels before Blaine let his head fall back on the sofa, groaning into the air.

“Just go back to Spiderman,” Blaine said. 

They sat watching the movie, but mostly commercials, for what felt like ages.

“We should go out,” Rachel said, closing her laptop. “I just finished my assignment, and you guys are making me depressed.”

“What do you suggest?” Blaine asked, grabbing a handful of pretzels from the bag he and Sam were sharing.

“I don’t know! Just _something._ Don’t forget where we are, New York City--”

“The greatest city on Earth,” Sam and Blaine said together, cutting Rachel off.

“We know,” Sam said. 

“You two are no fun,” Rachel said. 

Blaine got up and poured himself a glass of iced green tea from the grocery store. “I’m open for ideas if you’ve got any.”

Blaine’s sweatpants dragged across the floor, his unfortunate small height made sure he would never buy a pair of pants that were the right length unless he got them cropped, and that was a look he wanted to leave in high school. He tugged at the waistband and leaned against the counter, sipping his drink.

“Besides, it’s too cold to do anything anyway,” Sam said. 

“Party poopers,” Rachel said. “Keep watching the Avengers and I’ll think of something fun to do.”

“Spiderman not an Avenger!” Sam snapped. Rachel giggled.

Blaine rubbed his eyes. He had stayed up late last night reading for school, and to be completely honest, he had no intentions of leaving the house that day. 

A series of loud quick knocks at the door pounded through the apartment. “Who’s that?” Sam asked. “Rachel, have you already invited someone?”

Rachel shook her head. Blaine rolled his eyes and set down his drink.

“I’ll get it,” Blaine said, forcing himself off the counter and slowly walking to the door as another round of knocks was heard. 

Blaine opened the door, and the face on the other side was not who he was expecting. 

“Kurt?” Blaine saw lines of tears streaming down Kurt’s face, Mikey, Frankie, and Mouse hanging back on the sidewalk, holding handfuls of things. The kids were out of breath, and Kurt’s face looked more like a painting than a face, pale and red at the same time, brushed with lines of tears. All of the fatigue Blaine was feeling left his body. “What’s going on?”

Kurt’s eyes were puffy, and for the first time, he looked entirely broken. “I had nowhere else to go,” Kurt stammered, “they, they, the construction. We got our, our music, and clothes, but they, they took everything, they took our money and our food. They kicked us out and took everything. We, I, I don’t know what to do and I don’t want the kids to be more freaked out than they already are…”

Blaine motioned for his roommates to go somewhere else. Confused and hesitant, they went into Rachel’s room. Rachel started whispering something to Sam, but the comfort of his roommates was at the bottom of Blaine’s priority list. 

Kurt ran his hands through his hair, tears still flooding his face, gasping for breath. Kurt’s eyes bounced around the apartment, and Blaine put his hands on Kurt’s shoulders, then around his face, forcing Kurt to look at him.

“Hey, hey, calm down, it’s going to be okay,” Blaine said, holding onto Kurt. “Come inside, it’s freezing.”

Kurt walked into the apartment, the kids following behind. Blaine’s hands were wet from tears that had transferred onto them from Kurt’s face. Blaine noticed how soft Kurt’s skin was. 

“Guys, you can go to my room at the end of the hall and warm up,” Blaine said to them.

The kids shuffled down the hall into Blaine’s room, traumatized and dazed from whatever just happened to them.

“Tell me again,” Blaine said steadily. “What happened.”

Kurt took a deep breath and Blaine put his hand back on Kurt’s shoulder, rubbing the side of his arm. Kurt’s need for removing the sleeves from his t-shirts resulting in arms as cold as ice. 

Kurt took another long breath. “You remember how, at the hideout, there was a sign saying that the lot was under construction? Well, they finally decided to, to do it. They, they came this morning and grabbed all our stuff, yelling at us to get out. We grabbed everything we could that wasn’t already destroyed or taken, and we came here, because… because… I didn't know where else to go.” Kurt wiped his eyes and nose.

Blaine pulled him into a hug, swaying so gently it was unnoticeable. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Blaine said softly. “But you’re okay. You’re here, and everything is going to be fine.” He hoped he wasn’t lying.

Kurt grabbed onto Blaine, crying into his shoulder. “I tried so hard. I tried, _so hard,_ to make a space, a life, a way for me and the kids to do more than just _get by,_ and it was all destroyed in an instant,” Kurt spluttered. 

“Shhhh,” Blaine said, hoping he was doing the right thing to calm him down. “I know. I know.” The severity of what happened to the Subway Rats started hitting Blaine like pins and needles. The four of them had finally gotten out of Blaine’s daily thoughts, and he felt guilty for not doing more for them, for letting them disappear. He kept a tight hold on Kurt, wishing he could do more than just hold him.

They stood holding each other closely for a few moments, Blaine whispering cliche comfort into Kurt’s ear. Kurt stepped back, “do you have any tissues?”

“Of course,” Blaine said, rushing to the counter.

Kurt sat down at a chair at the kitchen table, burying his face in his hands, repeatedly running his hands through his hair. Blaine handed him the tissues and Kurt cleaned himself up. “Thanks,” Kurt said. 

“You guys can stay here as long as you want,” Blaine said. He wanted to say was _“you never should’ve left.”_

“No, no, no, we, we really just needed a place to readjust ourselves before we look for a new home. Actually, I don’t even know why I thought we should come here, I should go, we, we should go...”

“Stop, stop, that’s ridiculous. Stay here a few nights. Please. I’m asking you,” Blaine said calmly. 

Sam and Rachel emerged. “Can you tell us what’s happening?” Rachel asked. “Who are these people?”

“This is Kurt,” Blaine said. “Kurt, this is Rachel and that’s Sam; they’re my roommates.”

Kurt sniffled and nodded his head in acknowledgment. “Hey.”

“Your friend from school?” Rachel asked. 

Kurt laughed. “God no. I’m--”

“Kurt and his friends need a place to stay for a little while so they can... figure some stuff out. I told him they can crash here. Is that okay?” Blaine said, eyeing Rachel.

“Of course it’s okay,” Sam said. 

“Rats!” Kurt called out. “Get out here.”

Rachel made a face at Kurt’s choice of words, not quite sure what he meant.

Mikey, Frankie, and Mouse slowly walked out into the living room.

“These are kids,” Rachel said. “What’s really going on?”

“Like I said,” Blaine said, “these are Kurt’s friends and they need somewhere to crash.”

Mikey stood with his arm around Mouse, who appeared to have been crying more than the older kids. Frankie smiled at Blaine, sniffling.

“Do you guys want something to eat?” Blaine asked, getting up.

“No, we’re good,” Kurt said. 

They stood around the kitchen awkwardly. 

“We put our stuff in your room, Blaine,” Mikey said. “But we can move it in a minute.”

“That’s fine,” Blaine said. “Do what you gotta do.”

Blaine started to fully comprehend the situation. “Sam, Rachel, can I talk to you guys alone for a second?”

Blaine lead his roommates into his room, which he shared with Sam. “I know this is kind of odd,” he started.

“Yes, very,” Rachel said, crossing her arms. “Who are these people, that I’ve never seen before, who look like they just came off the streets of Manhattan asking to move in with us?”

“They’re not moving in with us,” Blaine said, “and they’re actually off the streets of Greenpoint.”

Rachel looked alarmed, but then guilty for her rude remark. “So why are they here, and how do you know them?” she asked with a more genuine tone than before. 

“It’s complicated, but they were kicked out of the place they were living and all of their money was stolen. They have nothing. I figured the least we can do is let them sleep here for a few nights while they build up their funds. Look, just, be nice, okay? I know this is very sudden, and I can’t expect you to think it’s normal, but they’re good people, and they need help.” Blaine took a deep breath.

“Of course we’re going to be nice to them,” Rachel said, “they’re _homeless._ I’m not a monster.”

“Right, but I want you to treat them like normal people,” Blaine said. “That’s all I ask.”

“Of course, dude,” Sam said. 

Blaine raised his eyebrows, “and they play music.”

Rachel seemed to inflate. “Really! You should’ve just started off with that.”

“Go play with them,” Blaine said.

The trio walked back into the front of the apartment. 

Rachel took a seat at the piano. “A little birdie told me you guys like to play music,” she said. 

Blaine rolled his eyes at Rachel’s baby voice.

Frankie and Mouse rushed over to the piano and Frankie took a seat next to Rachel. Rachel began to play the notes to “Here Comes the Sun” by The Beatles. 

“I love this song!” Frankie said, playing the chords to match the notes of the chorus. “We don’t know that many famous songs because there’s not much public sheet music for them, but we heard this song on the throwback radio one day and begged Kurt to buy the music. I love the Beatles.”

Kurt smiled at Frankie, looking more like himself. 

“I think we lost the radio,” Mikey said, walking over to Sam’s acoustic guitar that was hanging on the wall. “We got your guitar, though,” he said to Blaine.

“That would actually be Sam’s guitar,” Blaine said, pointing to Sam.

Sam gave a cheerful smile to Mikey. 

“Oooh,” Sam said. “You’re the people Blaine suggested I give my archtop to! I haven’t gotten around to buying a new one yet. Maybe you could help me pick one out,” he said to Mikey.

“Totally!” Mikey said. 

Blaine smiled, _they were all getting along._

Kurt still sat at the kitchen table, Mouse hovering close by. 

“Later you can show me your craziest guitar moves,” Blaine said to Mouse.

“I forgot!” Mouse said. “Yes!”

Blaine looked around his crowded apartment, so happy with the combining of worlds that was taking place that he forgot all about the desolation of the Subway Rats.

 

*

 

Kurt felt like he was about to fall asleep but there was a rock in his chest that kept him awake. He saw the rats and Blaine’s roommates all paired off introducing themselves to each other and having cheerful conversations about music. The last thing he wanted to do was play music.

“You good?” Blaine asked him.

Kurt shook himself back into reality. “Huh? Yeah, I’m fine.” That was a blatant lie. He was the farthest thing from fine. He felt like he was dead. 

He was so _stupid._ People don’t just put up construction signs and never come around to do the construction. He thought the hideout was their safe haven, where the cruel stares and large price tags of the world couldn’t touch them, but even their place of refuge was now taken from them.

Kurt was surprised they brought out as much stuff as they did. The workers didn’t give two shits about their stuff, or them, at all. They were knocking the parking lot down whether Kurt and the kids were in it or not. 

They had stuffed the instrument suitcases with their sleeping bags and pillows, gathering as many boxes of clothes, cooking supplies, toiletries, and other things they could, but the better part of their belongings, what they couldn’t carry or were too late to salvage from being thrown into a garbage truck or just plain stolen were gone.

So much _time,_ and _money,_ and _caution,_ and _protection._ Gone. Kurt had thought so highly of himself. He had built a life for kids that gave them joy and music and food when they would’ve had _nothing._ Kurt thought he was a goddamn superhero for looking after the kids. He had thought that he was doing good things for them, but looking back, it seemed that Kurt only wanted to make himself feel better. He felt like he was dead.

“I’m gonna go sort through our stuff. We never really got a good look at what we had,” Kurt said, slowly standing up.

“Let me help you,” Blaine said. 

“No, I can manage.”

“Please,” he continued.

“I’d rather you not,” Kurt said harshly. “I need some time to myself.”

What an idiot. Both of them, Kurt for thinking Blaine were some sort of selfless exception to society, and Blaine for playing the part. Kurt felt like even more of an idiot for confiding in Blaine, for letting himself open up as he had just done. Feeding the fantasy of Blaine’s heroism. 

He could sort his own goddamn clothes.

Kurt hurried off into Blaine’s room, which looked like it was also Sam’s room, the two beds covered in their stuff. Kurt unzipped the suitcases and inspected the instruments. Their buckets were thrown out, but Kurt’s drums were safe. The uke, archtop, piano, and acoustic. All there, and from what he could tell there was minimal damage.

Kurt exhaled, thankful that their music made it out alive. He found his notebook with all of their music inside it and flipped through it. Years of sheet music was inside, some worn from time. Kurt started to cry again, clutching his pillow. Why was his first instinct to save the pillows? He could’ve gotten something more valuable… 

Next to the instruments, the sleeping bags were the most valuable things they owned, but pillows, those were replaceable. They could’ve stuffed the money in the suitcases. They could’ve gotten it out.

But they didn’t. But _he_ didn’t.

Kurt blamed himself for everything. For thinking the hideout was safe in the first place, for organizing their things the way they did, for not thinking of a plan in case something like this happened, for not thinking something like this would happen. After everything he had been through, he should’ve known.

There was a knock on the door. Kurt wiped his eyes. “Yeah?”

Sam came inside. “Blaine told me you wouldn’t let him help you.”

“I can do this by myself,” Kurt replied dryly. “He couldn’t have sent Mikey in? Or Frankie?”

Sam shrugged, kneeling by Kurt. He grabbed a sleeping back and rolled it up neatly. “They’re super cool kids,” Sam said. “I haven’t talked to the little one yet, but I mean she seems cool too.”

“He,” Kurt corrected. “Mouse is a he.”

“Oh,” Sam said. “See, he even has a badass rockstar name.”

Kurt allowed Sam to roll up their sleeping bags while he looked through the kitchen supplies. They lost the lighter. It was brand new. 

“Blaine’s never told us about you. Just that I should give my guitar to a street band he and Oscar liked.”

Kurt decided not to ask who Oscar was. “Thank you for the guitar.”

“Blaine really wants to help you guys out,” Sam said. 

Kurt didn’t say anything in reply. He rifled through a box of his clothes, trying to find the energy to sort them. This was a pointless interaction. Why had Blaine sent Sam in to babysit him?

“He’s just trying to sort everything out,” Sam said quietly. “Blaine, I mean. He always wants to get the logistics settled before he does anything. He told me he didn’t want you to think that he didn’t see your pain. He does, he’s just trying to put on a brave face. He said you’d understand.”

Kurt gave Sam a friendly smile. “Thanks.”

“I can leave if you want,” Sam muttered.

“No, it’s cool. I’m just really overwhelmed by this whole thing.”

“Yeah.”

They sorted everyone’s clothes and toiletries into piles, putting the things that they wouldn’t need while staying with Blaine back in their boxes. 

“Thanks for your help,” Kurt said, slowly standing up. “I know it may not look like much,” he continued, gesturing to the assortment of things laid out before them.

“I’m impressed,” Sam said. He brushed off his pants and surveyed their work. “I lived in a motel with my siblings for the better part of a year. I know that’s nothing compared to what you guys have gone through, but I know that it’s like to think you have it figured out, and be swept off your feet and left with nothing.”

Kurt looked over at Sam. He could see the painful memories in his eyes. Maybe Blaine and his merry bunch of friends weren’t so neatly pressed after all. Kurt gave Sam a nod that meant “thank you for telling me that,” but he wasn’t sure if Sam got the message. 

When Kurt and Sam walked back into the living room, Blaine and Frankie were on sitting at the piano and everyone was crowded around them. 

“Have you guys written any originals?” Rachel asked. 

Kurt introduced himself into the conversation by saying, “no, but it’s on our bucket list.”

Blaine let his eyes drift from the piano, Frankie staring mesmerized by the graceful movements of Blaine’s hands across the keys. He gave Kurt and Sam a smile, probably pleased that they were getting along. Kurt tried not to convince himself that Blaine’s happiness with their positive interaction was a bad thing. He was just happy. People could be just _happy._

“I’m getting so many ideas for plans I need to write it all down,” Rachel said, typing furiously on her phone. 

“Sam! Could I try your guitar?” Mikey asked. 

Sam grabbed the acoustic and handed it to Mikey. “Go for it.”

Mikey put the strap around himself and ran his hands over the shiny wood and thick strings. This was a real guitar and not the beat up excuse of an instrument Mikey brought with him from the orphanage. 

Mikey strummed a C chord and closed his eyes. “Beautiful,” he said, trying out a few other simple chords. 

Blaine stopped playing the piano, and the apartment suddenly felt emptier. “Do you guys wanna just lounge and then after we eat maybe we can think about something to do?” Blaine suggested. 

Mouse leaped onto the couch and turned on the TV. Frankie and Mikey followed, arguing about what to watch, not that they even recognized the majority of the channels and shows. 

Kurt sat down on an armchair next to the sofa and took the remote, landing on a sports game. 

Mikey kept asking Sam who to root for, and what the rules were, and Kurt curled up in the chair, his tiredness setting in. Blaine sat in the last empty armchair.

Kurt hated how much he enjoyed being in this apartment. It was like all of the years of living without a home hadn’t happened, and he was just another kid trying to make a living in New York City. As he sat in that armchair, he was just a kid.

Blaine was only a few years younger than Kurt, but Kurt saw so much hope and excitement in Blaine’s eyes, the way he held himself, how he looked at the world with an open heart, moving through it like it had something worthwhile to offer. Kurt wished he knew what that felt like. 

He realized he was staring and turned to watch the football game. 

_I can’t get used to this,_ Kurt kept reminding himself. _This is not my life._


	7. Chapter 7

Blaine opened the door to find everyone right where he left them. Rachel working on something for school, Sam with the kids on the sofa, and Kurt asleep on the armchair. He almost didn’t want to wake Kurt, he looked at peace for the first time that day.

Sam was playing a video game with the kids, which they all quickly abandoned when Blaine yelled, “food is here!”

Blaine set the bags of sushi they ordered out on the table and rushed to grab a few cheap plastic chairs from the coat closet to seat the extra guests. He quickly set them out, double checking to make sure he had room for everyone. Blaine glanced over to see Kurt rolling awake; Kurt stretched and rubbed his forehead and didn’t acknowledge anyone as he slumped off to Blaine’s room.

Kurt appeared about five minutes later wearing a black t-shirt (sleeves cut off) and sweatpants, and he took a seat at the sushi feast with the rest of them.

Everyone frantically reached for various things across the table, and Blaine tried his best to make sure that everyone was happy and satisfied. 

“Is this good?” Mouse asked Blaine, pointing to the wasabi. 

“Yes, but it’s very spicy. Try a little and see if you like it,” Blaine replied. 

They all had a little laugh, excluding Kurt, when Mouse appeared repulsed by the taste of wasabi, gulping down a glass of water and pushing the plate of it away from him.

“Nasty,” Mouse said.

“I agree,” Sam said to Mouse, opening his chopstick package. “Too strong.”

“Wimps,” Rachel said, scooping a drop of wasabi onto her veggie sushi roll and eating it.

“How…” Mouse said in awe, flabbergasted by Rachel’s lack of reaction to the flavor. 

It was like Thanksgiving dinner, except it was 3:00 in the afternoon, still two weeks before Thanksgiving, and a meal of sushi and soup. But Blaine thought it felt like a real family meal. It was a strange feeling, especially since it felt so normal.

“You don’t have to eat them, but you were asleep, so I got some in case you were hungry,” Blaine said quietly, gesturing to the rolls that Blaine got for Kurt.

“Thanks,” Kurt muttered.

They ate their takeout quickly, the Subway Rats tired from their long day. Blaine realized they would have to make sleeping arrangements soon.

Blaine never actually got around to eating with everyone else, as he was too busy refilling water and cleaning dishes when people were finished. _This is what my mom must have felt like,_ Blaine thought. 

As the kids returned to the TV and Rachel went to her room, Blaine finally got a chance to eat. 

Sam was working on the last pieces of edamame. “Let me tell you,” Sam said, “I love some good sushi.”

Blaine looked over at Kurt, who was sitting with his feet up on the seat with his arms crossed, staring out the window past Blaine and Sam. Blaine ate quickly, trying to enjoy the meal as he attempted to keep his mind focused on making everyone comfortable for the next few nights. 

Sam and Rachel were being super chill about it all day, but he could tell that once night came the reality of their houseguests would hit them, and they might not be as happy and welcoming as they had been during the day.

Blaine’s phone buzzed and he saw that it was a text from Oscar asking if he wanted to go to a bar tonight. 

Blaine texted back that he was busy and he was sorry. 

Okay, maybe it wasn’t just Sam and Rachel who would get a reality dose this night. Now Blaine was turning down a fun night with his boyfriend to look after--

He had to stop himself, to take a deep breath and remember the circumstances of Kurt and the kids. Blaine was doing the right thing. If he and Oscar were to have switched places, Blaine bet that Oscar would’ve turned down the date too. Right?

Blaine looked around the room, realizing that they only had two twin beds, a full, and a sofa. 

“Sam, would you mind sharing a bed with Rachel in her room?” Blaine asked. Rachel had the full bed.

“Not a problem. Our sexual chemistry has considerably declined since senior year,” Sam replied, throwing away his trash.

“Great,” Blaine formulated the best sleeping arrangement that was available to them. “Hey, Kurt?”

“Huh?” Kurt shook himself back awake. He looked awful. Blaine almost wanted to tell him to go sleep in his room right now. 

“You and the kids can use Sam and I’s room. And your stuff is already in there. Is that cool?”

“Oh, yeah. Thank you,” Kurt replied. 

Before Blaine could present his sleeping solution to the rest of the room, Rachel bust into the living room with a giant grin on her face. 

“I know what we’re going to do this afternoon!” She said, pressing her hands together. 

Blaine braced himself for which karaoke bar she was going to suggest.

“Bowling night!”

 

*

 

“Bowling?” Blaine asked. 

Kurt decided he wasn’t going to get along well with this Rachel girl. She was a lot to take in, and currently, the only thing Kurt wanted to take in was a good night's sleep on an actual bed. _An actual bed, Jesus._

“I’m going to have to pass,” Kurt said, standing up. He felt dizzy as he stood, the bright lights and intense energy from everyone else in the room just making him want to fall on the bed more.

“What? No,” Rachel said. “It’s a bonding opportunity! We can make teams and shuffle everyone around and--”

“That sounds like a fantastic idea. I hope everyone enjoys your team building exercise, but I’m going to sit this one out,” Kurt stated. He started walking to Blaine’s room, only feeling slightly guilty for his harsh tone.

Kurt turned around to close the door when he saw Sam in the doorway. “Sorry, did you need something?” Kurt asked. He couldn’t even tell if it was genuine or sarcastic.

“Dude, you need to snap out of it,” Sam said.

“What?”

“Snap out of it! Look, I know this has been a tough day for you--”

“All of our cash was _stolen,_ ” Kurt reminded him.

“Yes and I can’t even start to imagine how that must feel, but look where you are now, in an apartment of a friend who wants to help you, and his friends who want to help you too,” Sam said.

Kurt sighed. He hated being a bad mood, but he wasn’t sure if this funk was due to his exhaustion, because he was letting his guard down, or because he was putting one up. “This is touching, really, but I’m super tired and--”

“When was the last time you went to a bowling alley with your friends or family?” Sam asked, crossing his arms. This guy was not backing down.

Kurt searched his mind of a memory of a fun afternoon bowling. It wasn’t like there were many bowling alleys where he lived. “I was probably less than ten,” Kurt said quietly. “And I can assure you it wasn’t a good time.”

The last time, the _only_ time, Kurt had gone bowling was before his mom had died and there were a few threads of tolerance holding his family together. It was his dad’s idea to visit the cheap bowling alley that was less than 15 miles away, but they had never bothered to visit. The memory was faint and the details were gone, but the knowledge that Kurt had a bonding bowling experience was there. Based on that memory, indulging in another bowling adventure was not on his bucket list. 

“When my dad lost his job, and we lost our house, I thought that we would never get to do anything fun again,” Sam said.

“Great pep talk. Real dose of reality.”

“Well,” he continued, “now’s your chance.”

Kurt thought about the kids, and how disappointed they would be if Kurt didn’t come with them. 

Maybe it was selfish of Kurt to think of himself as a superhero for the kids, but for all he knew, they thought of him as one, too. Those three rats were everything to him. Everything. 

“Fine,” Kurt said. Sam pumped his fist in the air. “But not for me, for the kids.”

“Sure,” Sam replied with a wink.

Kurt rolled his eyes. “You’re pushing your luck buddy.”

Sam held his hands up and walked back towards the living room with a stride of victory. Kurt followed.

“So, when do we leave?” Kurt said flatly. 

“Yes, you’re coming!” Mouse exclaimed, turning over on the sofa. 

It was the smile of that kid that reassured Kurt that he was making the right choice. It’s not even like this was some big decision or anything, but for Kurt, choosing to go to bowling night meant that he was giving the kids opportunities to enjoy themselves, which just sent him spiraling into guilt.

He could never have done this without Blaine’s pity.

But was that a good thing or a bad thing? Should Kurt be thanking Blaine for his support, or hating him for rubbing his privileged lifestyle in their faces?

Kurt couldn’t decide on one for longer than ten seconds before coming up with a defense of his other theory. He forced himself to follow three rules: one, the kids always come first; two, don’t act like an ass; and three, be nice to Blaine and have the benefit of the doubt.

He had followed the first two ever since he found Mouse, so he thought that one more wouldn’t be too much trouble. 

Kurt had trust issues. Not just with people, with places, and things, too. He was cautious everywhere he went, but even more careful to always put on a brave face. Every second since that morning Kurt felt the mask he wore for the kids slipping away. 

“It closes in five hours, so we’ll have plenty of time to eat and play,” Rachel said. 

Eat. Kurt felt a jolt in his stomach. “We don’t have any money,” Kurt said. 

“We can get bowling alley food for you guys,” Blaine announced calmly, “it’s no problem.”

Kurt looked at Blaine, at his kind smile and eager eyes. To him, buying food for four strangers was no problem. Why would Blaine waste his money on them?

“Let’s go get changed,” Kurt said to the kids. “We can leave in a few minutes.”

Kurt followed the kids into their new bedroom and helped them pick out warm clothes to wear. Kurt grabbed his jeans and sweatshirt and went to change clothes in the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror. His nose and cheeks red from crying, hair ruffled from falling asleep on the armchair, clothes that didn’t fit right. 

He didn’t look homeless, especially not in the well decorated and well-lit bathroom. Not homeless, just a mess. On the inside and out. 

Kurt wet his hands and tried his best to fix his hair. When he came out of the bathroom, everyone looked ready to go. 

“Where’s Mouse?” Kurt asked. 

“Still changing. He didn’t know what to wear,” Frankie said. Then she turned to Rachel, Sam, and Blaine. “Wanted to dress to impress.”

They stood for a few seconds before Mouse poked his head out of the room. “Kurt?” He looked like he was about to cry. 

Kurt walked over quickly and shut the door behind him. Mouse held up a pair of kids boxer-briefs, stained. Kurt sighed, wanting to punch himself for not noticing they didn’t salvage any tampons. 

“I thought it was over,” Kurt said.

Mouse shook his head and rubbed his fist over his eyes.

“It’s okay,” Kurt said. “We can wash them. I’ll go ask Rachel for some, okay?”

Mouse nodded, sniffling. “Wait,” he said. “I don’t want them to know.” Mouse bit his lip. “I don’t want them to know.”

Kurt gave Mouse a smile. “I know,” Kurt said.

This kid. This poor kid. 

Kurt stepped back into the hallway and ducked into the bathroom. He opened almost every cabinet drawer before he found what he was looking for. He slid a handful of tampons up his sweatshirt sleeve and set one on the counter. 

Kurt motioned for Mouse to come in, and he shuffled into the bathroom. “You good?” Kurt asked before closing the door.

“Getting there,” Mouse responded with a small smile. 

“Everything okay?” Blaine asked, then he made the same face he kept making the night the Subway Rats came over for dinner like he had said exactly the wrong thing. Kurt hated that face. 

“Yeah,” Kurt replied cheerfully. When he looked up at Blaine again, he could tell they both knew Kurt was lying. Kurt and Blaine seemed to be able to do that with each other, tell when the other was lying. Kurt couldn’t decide if it was a good or bad thing. 

They took a bus to the bowling alley. The ride was about 25 minutes. Kurt sat next to Mouse.

It wasn’t the most beautiful building they had ever seen, the air thick with varieties of grease, but it was a bowling alley nonetheless. A cheap one at that, which made Kurt less guilty, even though he insisted on watching and not playing. 

Sam, Blaine, and Mouse teamed up, while Rachel, Mikey, and Frankie teamed up as well. They would add up their scores at the end, but Blaine stressed the importance of just trying to have fun and not focusing on the competition. 

Blaine’s roommates were more interested in winning than the kids were, Kurt noticed. 

It took them nearly ten minutes to find a ball light enough for Mouse to hold with one hand. 

Kurt sat with his feet up on the table. He cheered for everyone, but secretly hoped Mouse’s team won. He thought it’d be hilarious to see Rachel’s reaction to a loss. 

Frankie got a strike, and eventually, so did Blaine. They weren’t great bowlers, but it didn’t matter. They were having a blast. Every time pins were knocked down, high fives and fist bumps were shared, even across teams. 

“Anyone want any more food?” Sam asked. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

“How about some waters,” Blaine offered. 

“Kurt, you can play for me while I’m gone. Here, take my shoes.” Sam wiggled off his bowling shoes and shuffled back into his Converse. “They don’t care.”

By they, he meant the people working at the alley. Kurt looked around. Yep, they definitely wouldn’t care. 

There were only four more rounds in the game, and they decided to get more food when the game ended. 

Even with Blaine and Mouse’s instructions and strategies, Kurt was still awful at bowling. It didn’t seem to matter that he had a strong arm, his aim was non-existent. 

But he didn’t care. 

He let himself laugh and cheer and hug Mouse when he had a good roll and throw his hands in the air in agony when someone on the other team had a good roll. He let out all his anger as he released the ball. Every time his mind drifted back to the parking lot or the burden they were to Blaine or something other than sending the ball down the middle of the lane, he shook it off before it could eat away at him like those thoughts had been doing all day. 

It felt strangely cheesy, like people being this happy only existed in fiction. It’s not even that Kurt felt happy, he was just enjoying himself. It was so easy to laugh and cheer when he wanted, and not to hold himself back or force emotions down his throat.

There was only one round left, and when Blaine said he was going to grab a drink, Kurt only just noticed that Sam had returned with food.

 

*

 

“Should I give him my shoes back?” Sam asked quietly. 

Blaine shook his head and took a sip of water. “Let him finish it off.”

“That’s what I thought,” Sam said, shoving a few fries in his mouth.

Kurt tapped Mouse and gestured to the food. “Make this one count,” Kurt said to Mouse. 

Blaine couldn’t help but smile whenever Kurt talked to Mouse. He treated Mouse like a fragile being that was made of stone; like he had the capability of being so strong, but Kurt had to make sure with every move that he wasn’t cracked.

Around Mouse, around the kids, Kurt was warm and nurturing. Without them, he was cold and lost. Blaine wasn’t sure if he was someone who made Kurt stiffen or soften. Probably some of both.

Blaine just wished Kurt would get out of his head more. Watching him play, to lose himself in a fun, mindless activity gave Blaine that hope that the Subway Rats’ recovery from what happened in the parking lot would leave them better off. The hope that Blaine would leave them better off. Probably not better physically, but mentally, emotionally, Blaine saw something in them that he hadn’t seen before that day. 

“Yes!” Rachel shouted, falling to her knees and kissing the floor, then immediately gagging after. “Take that you child bowling prodigy!” She spat at Mouse. He giggled, not phased by the loss of his team. The emotional range of Rachel Berry made good entertainment if nothing else. 

“Shoot,” Kurt said, letting his head drop. “I really thought we pulled through.”

Rachel gave Frankie and Mikey passionate double high fives. They all cheered before shifting their excitement to the food. 

Everyone rushed over to the table and sat down around the assortment of sugar-filled drinks, french fries, and soft pretzels. It was like they hadn’t eaten just a few hours ago.

They ate while reliving memories of their epic bowling extravaganza, and Blaine watched helplessly as Kurt shrank back down into his sad, tired, and slightly bitter self. This had to be Kurt trying to avoid being himself, not his natural state. Blaine wouldn’t accept that.

Blaine didn’t know at what point that night he made it his mission to get to the bottom of Kurt’s bad attitude and to rid him of it, but it was. The kids seemed to be having the time of their lives, but for some reason, Kurt couldn’t shake the stone cold person Blaine had seen before the night he invited them over. 

Blaine thought back to when he ran into Kurt at the café. When Kurt called him that night. When he showed up at Blaine’s door this morning. When it was just the two of them, Kurt existed as a person who showed vulnerability. 

How was it that Kurt was both his best _and_ worst around the kids?

“It’s getting pretty late,” Blaine said.

“It’s not even eight o’ clock!” Mikey said, holding up Sam’s wrist to show the table Sam’s watch for proof. 

“Yeah, but we still have to get back to the apartment and set up our sleeping situation.”

“Ugh,” Frankie said. “Yeah, yeah. We know.”

“We just don’t want it to end,” Mouse said. “This is the most fun I’ve ever had in my whole life.”

Mouse swirled the last bit of pretzel around in mustard and rested his elbow on the table with his fist on his cheek. 

“Thanks for taking us!” Mikey said. “It was super fun.”

Mikey gave Blaine a wide smile as if he was so proud of himself for being polite. 

“We had fun too! I’m so glad you guys had a good time,” Blaine said.

“The best time,” Mikey said. 

“I can throw this stuff out,” Kurt said.

Sam and Rachel stood up and helped Kurt collect the trash. They took their trays over to the trash can. “Glad you joined?” Sam asked.

Kurt smiled and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, you were right.”

“Get used to that,” Sam said with a smirk.

When they stepped outside, Kurt realized Blaine wasn’t wrong about it being late. The air was chillier than when they came inside the bowling alley, and the sun had set. They shivered as they waited for the bus. 

“I’m tired,” Mouse said, rubbing his eye. 

“Me too,” Kurt said to him. 

Mouse rested his head on Kurt’s shoulder.

Blaine sat by himself on the bus. He lay his head against the seat and looked over at Kurt and Mouse. He looked back at Sam and Rachel, staring out the window into the night. He listened to Mikey and Frankie behind him, giggling about something. 

He looked back at Kurt and smiled.


	8. Chapter 8

“I don’t mind, really, it’s fine,” Blaine insisted.

“But it’s _your_ apartment. I should be the one sleeping on the sofa,” Kurt replied.

“I’m telling you, I don’t mind. I’ve taken so many naps on that sofa it’s like I already sleep there.”

Kurt wondered how anyone could be as kind as Blaine was. How someone could give and give and give and never take and still be willing to give more. 

Kurt wished he was more like Blaine.

Everytime Blaine gave something to the Subway Rats, Kurt trusted him more. Trusted that the intentions of his actions were fueled by kindness and his desire to do good for other people, and not to make himself feel good or to affirm his privilege. 

Kurt wished he was more like Blaine.

“Just for one night, then we’re switching,” Kurt said, giving in. 

Blaine smiled. 

The kids were all in Blaine and Sam’s room, or now their room, changing into pajamas. Kurt had already changed in the bathroom, and was helping Blaine make the sofa into a bed. 

_How are you so kind?_ Kurt thought. “How are you so kind?” Crap. He said it out loud.

“What?”

“Never mind.”

“No, what did you say?” Blaine smirked as he lay a blanket over the makeshift bed. 

“You’re so nice,” Kurt said quietly. “How?”

Blaine shrugged and walked over to the sink to start washing the last of the dishes. “I just try to be a good person.”

Kurt bit his lip and scrunched up his face. _Yeah, right._ “Yeah, right, but housing four homeless kids goes beyond having a good sense of your morals.”

Blaine put his hand on his hip. His hair that was usually filled with products that made it look straight and shiny was looking curlier than Kurt had ever seen it. Kurt liked it curlier. It suited him. Kurt wondered why people spend so much money on things to change the way they look.

“I want to help you. You as in all four of you. You’re good people who got dealt bad cards. I’m an okay person who got dealt great ones. I’m just, I don’t know, trying to… deal out my cards to people who deserve them more.”

Kurt had never thought of it that way. “What makes you think you’re an okay person?”

“Cause I was spoiled as a kid. I got anything I wanted, I was loved in school, spoiled by teachers too. Sure, it made me happy at the time, but it didn’t teach me anything valuable. It’s not like I don’t appreciate the childhood I had, I just, it’s made me an inherently selfish person.” Blaine turned back and wiped off the forks and cups and set them on the drying rack.

Selfish was the last word that came to mind when Kurt thought of Blaine. It was such a strange feeling for Kurt to hear this coming from Blaine, because in some ways, that made Kurt correct about the negative assumptions he had made about Blaine’s motivations. 

But what puzzled him is that everything he thought about Blaine was wrong. Blaine was _conscious_ of it all. 

When someone is aware of the bad things about them and is trying to fix those things, does that make them a better person than one who didn’t have those bad things to begin with?

“I’m sorry, I probably just sound like an asshole,” Blaine said.

Kurt felt a smile creep across his face. He forced it away. “No, I think I get it.”

Blaine scratched his ear, still standing across the room from Kurt. “I have to admit. In the beginning, with the guitar, and the coffee, I felt like I was showing off. Like I was impressing you or whatever. I told myself that I just wanted to help you guys out, but deep down I knew that I was, not _helping_ myself, but benefiting myself, you know?”

Kurt nodded. 

“When I got to know you, you as in you and the kids as well, I wanted to slap myself, you know?”

Kurt didn’t know.

“I just felt really bad.”

“For helping us?”

“For using you.”

Kurt hated that he was right about that. He had started to think that this kind and humble Blaine was the same guy who had given him a free coffee, just because he was empathetic. 

“I think you’re being too hard on yourself,” Kurt said. He thought about the way Blaine looked at them and smiled at them, all the way back when Blaine tipped them more money than anyone else had that day. Blaine saw them as real people, he always had. Blaine was just like that.

Sometimes Kurt wished other people could read his mind. Kurt’s straight face and cold expression was just a mask for the spiral of questions and emotions constantly floating around in his head. 

The truth was, Kurt was scared to be anything other than tough. He was tough for the kids because he had to be. He was tough for everyone else because he had to be. Because he had to be tough around his dad, around people giving him dirty looks when he slept on benches. 

He never had friends, or anyone other than the rats who he had more than one interaction with.

He didn’t know what to be around Blaine. 

Kurt tried to let himself go, he knew that’s what Blaine wanted him to do, but it was so hard for him to be anything other than tough.

Before Kurt could even look for the courage to start to tell any of this to Blaine, Mikey appeared. “Do we have to go to bed now?” He asked.

Blaine walked over and took Sam’s acoustic off it’s hook. “Sometimes we like to play some music at night if we’re not studying or out. It’s one of the only times when we all get to hang out since we’re so busy with school.”

Mikey’s eyes widened and he sat on the floor in front of the sofa. Frankie and Mouse came out and Mouse sat next to Blaine on the sofa bed, and Frankie sat in one of the arm chairs. 

Rachel, who was summoned everytime music was even mentioned, came out of the bathroom with her hair in a towel, plopping on the floor next to them. Kurt sat next to Mouse on the sofa, eyeing Blaine for permission first. Sam took the other arm chair. 

Blaine started to play the intro to Here Comes the Sun. Frankie smiled. Slowly, they all joined in.

It was a feeling that couldn’t be described by words. The voices filling the air, the warmth that was created, the simplicity of the action but the volume of the effect.

Kurt thought he had never been more content in any given moment in his whole life. He could’ve sat and sang along with them for hours. 

He never really thought of himself as a singer. A drummer and amiture piano player, sure. Blaine and his roommates, they were singers. Good ones. Kurt wondered what musical machine produced the three of them.

The song ended and Mouse yawned. “One more!” Rachel said. 

“I think it’s bedtime now,” Blaine said, standing up. 

_One more,_ Kurt wanted to say. This time he kept his mouth shut.

“Goodnight, you guys!” Rachel said. “We’ll be up early for school but feel free to sleep in as long as you want.”

Kurt saw panic in Blaine’s eyes. Did he not realize it was a Sunday night?

“Eat whatever you want, I’ll try to be back around 4:00,” Blaine said.

“Calm down, you don’t need to babysit us,” Frankie said.

“Yeah, we’ve got Kurt to do that,” Mikey said with a small laugh.

Kurt rolled his eyes and felt the corners of his lips creep upward. 

“Well, I’ll still try to get back by four.” Blaine looked around, checking for something Kurt wasn’t sure of. 

“See you then,” Mouse mumbled. “I’m going to bed.” Frankie lead Mouse into the bathroom.

“I have afternoon classes so I’ll be home later,” Rachel said.

“Do you go to the same school?” Mikey asked.

“Actually all three of us go to different schools,” Sam said. “Blaine goes to NYU, I go to Hunter, and Rachel goes to Julliard. Somehow we all ended up in this city, though,” he added with a laugh.

“Juilliard? Nice.” Kurt was thoroughly impressed. Maybe the reason Rachel was so… _loud_ is because she was used to her voice being heard.

Rachel beamed. 

Mikey got up and made his way to the bedroom, yawning. 

“Goodnight,” Blaine said to Kurt.

“Night.”

 

*

 

Blaine turned over on the sofa and checked his phone. It was midnight. 

He rolled over again and tried to fall back asleep. It wasn’t working. He lay on his back and stared at the ceiling of the apartment. He couldn’t help but think about the conversation with Kurt. 

Blaine wondered what was going on inside Kurt’s head behind the blank expression he wore most of the day. Blaine had just told Kurt everything, and Kurt didn’t seem to have much to say about it.

He decided to text Oscar. _You up?_

Oscar replied, sending one of his flirty and perfectly worded messages that made Blaine’s stomach flutter every time he read one. Oscar asked if he wanted to get coffee that morning. Blaine said he had work, and asked if he wanted to meet Blaine at the café near the end of his shift. Oscar said yes.

Blaine had no idea if he was going to tell Oscar about his new houseguests. He knew he should be honest with Oscar, but he didn’t know if Oscar would _get_ it.

He decided it would just be easier not to tell.

They texted for a little bit after that, just nonsense about school and each other. Blaine lost track of time. The world seemed to do that when Blaine was with Oscar, it just disappeared. 

“Hello?”

Blaine nearly jumped three feet in the air. “Jesus Christ!” He whisper yelled, realizing Kurt was standing in the hallway. “Sorry, you scared the crap out of me.”

“Sorry.”

Kurt walked slowly into the living room. His socked feet slid across the hardwood.

“Can’t sleep?” Blaine asked.

Kurt nodded. “Yeah.”

“Me too.”

Kurt’s dark figure stood motionless. Blaine clicked off his phone and sat up. “Want some water or something?” Blaine asked. 

Kurt shook his head. 

“Wanna sit?”

He made his way over to the sofa and sat down next to Blaine, who had crossed his legs under the blanket. Kurt hugged his knees to his chest. Glow from street lights illuminated their faces, so Blaine could see Kurt’s features and not just his outline.

“I didn’t wake you, right?” Kurt said quietly, just slightly louder than a whisper.

“No, no,” Blaine said. “I was awake already.” 

“It’s weird sleeping in a new place. I’m used to concrete,” Kurt mumbled. Blaine didn’t know if he was making a joke or not. 

Blaine played with his thumbs. “Hey, I’m sorry for unloading earlier. I think I just had to get some stuff off my chest.” Blaine tried to fill the silence with truth.

“Don’t be sorry,” Kurt whispered. His whisper was delicate and raw.

Blaine saw Kurt considering what he was going to say next.

“I have a hard time with… emotional stuff.”

Blaine looked down at his hands. “Oh.”

Kurt looked up, breathing softly. “I also don’t want you to think that you were treating us like a project,” he paused. “You are a good person.”

“Thanks,” Blaine said. He hoped Kurt’s comment was a reference to Blaine’s wish. _A good person._ “Don’t feel obligated to break out your life story, okay? Like I said, I just had to get that off my chest. I know, well, I don’t know, how hard your past was. Whatever you want to share or not share is fine with me.”

They each spoke slowly in a hushed and lengthy manner, like each syllable was important.

Blaine got a real look at the curves and edges of Kurt’s face. Like it was the first time Blaine had ever looked at him and stopped to notice the contour of his complexion, the way his eyebrows were arched and thick, his eyes soft and strong, his lips thin, his jaw sharp. Kurt looked stunning in the moonlight.

 

*

 

Kurt felt respected by Blaine. Like his privacy, his emotions, himself, were all being taken into careful consideration. He had never felt like that before. “Thanks,” Kurt said. 

He could tell they both felt obligated to avoid the inevitable awkward silence. “I’m going to head back to sleep,” Kurt said.

“Okay,” Blaine said.

Neither of them moved.

Blaine’s phone lit up with a notification. Kurt watched as Blaine slowly looked over at the phone, read the pop up, and ignored the message. The phone went black again.

Kurt wondered what it would be like to have a phone. He was saving up for one for the four of them to share. He was saving up for a lot of things. Not anymore.

Even Blaine’s voice in a coarse whisper sounded smooth and sure of itself. Kurt wanted to listen to him read. Or sing. Just hear his voice so the voices in his head would quiet down. “You good?” Blaine said.

_No. Not at all._

“Yeah.”

“Ok.”

Neither of them knew what to do or what not to do or why they weren’t doing anything. Kurt was sitting on Blaine’s bed, for God’s sake. It’s not like Blaine could walk away. Kurt suddenly felt uncomfortable. The reality of sleeping in someone else’s house, sleeping in a house for that matter. The last time Kurt slept in a house… 

Kurt thought about all the things he could say. They all sounded stupid. 

“You can tell me if you’re not okay,” Blaine said. 

Kurt held Blaine’s gaze, not a stare, a two way acknowledgement of existence. He believed every word Blaine said. He wasn’t about to cry right now… his eyes were so heavy.

Kurt pressed his lips together and looked back over his shoulder.

“See you tomorrow,” Kurt said, but it came out sounding like a question. The amount of time that had passed before he spoke seemed like eternity. 

Blaine gave Kurt a smile. How could so much warmth fit into such a small gesture? Kurt almost thought he had melted right then and there.

“See you then,” Blaine said.

Kurt got up and slid his feet into the hallway. He turned around and found Blaine’s eyes again. He gave Blaine a smile that said: _I’m here, always, just don’t be afraid to look._

When he wiggled under the covers, he realized how tired he was and fell asleep, smiling.


	9. Chapter 9

Kurt woke up with light pouring in the small window, all of the kids still asleep. He checked his watch, it was 8:13.

They usually woke up later in the day, so they would eat a delayed breakfast and just have a snack, or sometimes nothing, for lunch. Often times Kurt would wake up first and he would take a walk or go to the library to find new music.

He slowly got out of bed and made his way into the kitchen. It felt weird to be the only one awake in the apartment. It felt real, like he was waking up in a bed and now in a kitchen filled with food that he could eat.

Suddenly Kurt felt very hungry. 

He opened the fridge, telling himself over and over that they said it was okay for Blaine to have some of their food. He closed the fridge, leaning his forehead against the door. _What was he doing?_

Kurt turned around and saw a paper bag sitting on the table with a note attached to it. He ripped the note off the bag and read it slowly. 

_Be back at 4! Got some breakfast. (and help yourself to whatever) -Blaine_

He traced his fingers over the note, the scent of sharpie still fresh from when it was written. 

Kurt peeked inside the bag and found four relatively large chocolate chip muffins. He smiled, peeling off the wrapper and taking a bite out of one. 

He fell onto the sofa, careful not to leave crumbs. He turned on the TV and watched a cooking show until he heard footsteps coming into the living room.

“Hi,” Mouse said quietly. 

“Hey, morning,” Kurt replied. 

Mouse took a seat next to Kurt, eyeing the remaining piece of his muffin. 

“Want one?” Kurt asked.

Mouse smiled with no need to say more. 

Kurt stood up and turned off the TV. He shoved the rest of the muffin into his mouth. It was so hard for him not to eat slowly, not to savor every bite and trick himself into thinking he was full. 

“Eat it at the table so you don’t leave crumbs,” Kurt said, holding out a muffin to Mouse. 

He frowned. “But _you_ ate on the sofa.”

“ _I’m_ not a messy eater,” Kurt replied, smirking. “Come on.”

Mouse dragged his feet and took a seat at the table. He dove into the treat, getting chocolate on his face and crumbs everywhere, as Kurt expected. 

When Mouse was finished, he looked around as if there were more he was supposed to be eating. 

Something crossed Kurt’s mind not to spoil the kids so they wouldn’t be sad when they left the apartment. It wasn’t the first time he thought this. But now, he told himself that it was best to spoil them now while he could. 

It also felt like they wouldn’t be leaving the apartment, which was weird, because of course, they were. The feeling of being home was soaking into Kurt’s blood, and there was nothing he could do about it. 

“How do you feel about playing some music today?” Kurt asked Mouse. 

“Can I have a banana?” He asked.

Kurt pursed his lips, but got up and peeled Mouse a banana from the bowl on the counter.

“I can peel it myself,” Mouse said. 

“So…”

“I don’t know.”

“You got a day off yesterday!” Kurt exclaimed. 

“No, we got _kicked out_ and _robbed_ yesterday,” Mouse said through gritted teeth.

“Hey, calm down,” Kurt said. 

His attempts at being light and cheerful with the kids were proving to be a bad idea. Kurt felt his tough guy attitude starting to reassemble itself.

“I just, I don’t want to get stolen from again,” Mouse said quietly with a mouth full of banana. 

Kurt felt his heart sink, crushing the stern expression. 

“Don’t worry about that. We’ll be fine. We never have to go back there again, okay? We can just go down to the subway station and play a few songs. Alright? That sound like a plan? We’ll just do your favorites.”

Mouse nodded, but he still didn’t look happy. 

“What?” Kurt crossed his arms and leaned them on the table.

“You don’t have to baby me, you know,” Mouse said. 

Kurt sat up. “You know I’m just looking out for you,” he replied.

Mouse ate the last part of the banana and threw the peel in the trash can as if to prove his point. “Yeah, I know, but I’m not a little kid anymore. Sometimes I get scared and sometimes people can be mean but I’m old enough to watch out for myself,” Mouse said. He was quiet and cautious with his words.

Kurt thought about an incident that happened a few years back. They were playing a bit later than usual in hopes to make a little extra money to buy something for Mouse on his birthday, and an older man squinted at them and spat two words at Mouse. _“Fuckin’ dyke.”_

Even though Kurt refused to explain what the word had meant, he could tell Mouse knew the source of the insult. 

Mouse was the first one Kurt found, the one who Kurt always took extra care of, was the kindest with. He always gave Mouse his extra food if he had any, he’d carry Mouse on his back when Mouse was really little if he got tired. 

Mouse wasn’t old, but he had seen hell and back, and Kurt tried with everything in his power to try and be a parental figure in Mouse’s life, since the ones he had contributed to Mouse’s incredibly unfortunate childhood. 

Mouse was the only one out of the four of them that _hadn’t_ chosen to leave the place he was living. Frankie and Mikey, they had run away. Kurt had run away. Mouse was pushed away and had no choice but to run.

“I know,” Kurt said. “You’re a lot stronger than I was at your age.”

Mouse looked down and smiled. Kurt saw parts of himself in Mouse. The part that wanted to rebel, the part that loved to perform, the part that had been broken by his life living with people who didn’t want him.

Kurt didn’t see the part of himself that hid his emotions in Mouse. The part that assumed the worst in people. 

He tried to keep those parts of him as far away from Mouse as he could. 

“I’m just keeping myself sane knowing you’re extra safe and taken care of. I know you can look after yourself,” Kurt said. 

“Thanks,” Mouse said. 

There was a thump in the bedroom. Then an “ow,” and then laughter.

“I guess they’re up,” Kurt said, pressing his lips into a smile. 

Mouse giggled. 

Frankie stumbled in rubbing the side of her leg. Mikey strode in after her. 

“This clumsy lunatic woke me up,” Mikey said, sitting down at the table. 

“It’s not my fault those beds have such sharp corners hidden under the 100-pound blanket,” Frankie groaned. 

“Is that for us?” Mikey asked, reaching for the bag. He grabbed a muffin and handed the bag to Frankie. 

“Oh, heck yes,” Frankie said, taking a huge bite out of the top of the muffin.

“What time is it?” Mikey asked.

Kurt checked his watch. “8:45.”

“Ugh, it’s too early to be awake,” Mouse groaned.

“Ok guys, here’s the plan,” Kurt said. “Go to the Greenpoint station at around 9:30 and play until one or so then come back and chill until Blaine gets back?”

“One?” Mouse said. “You said a few songs!”

“Yes, but we need to start getting some money so we can get out of here soon.”

That made everyone slump down in their seats. Kurt knew they didn’t want to leave, he didn’t want to leave either. But there were clearly too many of them to stay in this apartment, and there was no way they could pay a fair share of rent even if they did extend their visit. He didn’t want to burden Blaine, Sam, and Rachel forever. They had lives too.

They finished eating and went to brush their teeth and get dressed for the day. Mouse and Frankie made a setlist while Kurt and Mikey made sure all of the instruments were tuned. 

They were out on the streets at 9:30 on the dot.

It was so odd to be walking the streets of New York as a street band again. As a group of kids both more advantaged and disadvantaged than they’ve ever been.

Thinking about this was the moment when it really hit Kurt how much Blaine had done for them. 

Jesus Christ. 

Jesus _fucking_ Christ.

Some random college kid struggling to keep up with rent and studying and who knows else what not only invited a group of people who slept without a home into his already crowded home, but also in their greatest time of need was there when he didn’t have to be, and when he didn’t ask to be. 

He just was. He was there.

He was there since he bought Kurt a three dollar cup of coffee just because he enjoyed listening to him play since he had given them a guitar and real food for a night. 

Blaine didn’t have to do any of this. He could’ve given them money, or not for that matter, and sent them back to the foul-smelling, dirty, cold streets of New York City.

Kurt bit the inside of his lip, realizing how little he really knew about Blaine, and how little Blaine knew about him. Yet he had never felt closer and more grateful for another human being in his entire life. 

It was getting colder every day, and as they walked to the Greenpoint Avenue Subway station, Kurt kept his eyes peeled for places they could set up after they left Blaine’s apartment.

Kurt looked over the set for the day. Not too many songs, just enough to fill the time. Most of the songs they played lasted 5-7 minutes since they hardly did anything found on the radio. As they played, just for a few seconds at a time, it felt like everything was just normal. Like after this they would go back to the parking lot, count their money again, get food, practice new songs, make a fire, and go to sleep.

Then reality would rush back to him, but this time, the reality check made Kurt smile instead of scowl.

 

*

 

“You’re looking cute today,” Oscar said, sliding in next to him.

“Ha, I don’t feel like it. I… didn’t sleep great last night,” Blaine said. He waved goodbye to his co-workers and walked outside, hand in hand with Oscar. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Oscar said.

Blaine swung their hands as they walked. “Don’t be sorry, I’m just a little tired. I really don’t want to face Ms. Bushman today.”

“Or _any_ day,” Oscar whispered, causing them both to crack up. “Hey, we still on for Thanksgiving? I just got to give a heads up to Leo so he knows who’s coming. He doesn’t want any unexpected visitors, you know?”

Blaine nodded. He thought about having a Thanksgiving dinner with the Subway Rats. “Yeah, we’re still on.”

“Great! I’ll tell him later.”

Blaine looked at the ground, then over at their hands. He realized he had been tense and jumpy all morning, and he wasn’t really sure why. Being around Oscar usually put Blaine at ease, but this morning it felt like he was doing the opposite. 

Blaine was terrible at keeping secrets. 

Oscar let his head fall on Blaine’s shoulder as they rode the Subway towards campus. He was a year older than Blaine was and lived with his best friend more south than Blaine and his roommates lived. Blaine had only gone over to his place once.

He thought that maybe seeing Oscar this morning would make Blaine stop worrying about the Subway Rats, but they kept surfacing at the top of his mind.

“You good?” Oscar asked. 

Blaine shook himself back into the conversation. “Huh? Yeah, I’m good. Just tired, like I said.”

“Okay… you’re just acting, I don’t know… distant.”

“I’m sleepy, let me live!” Blaine teased. 

He didn’t know if Oscar could see through his lies. Kurt always could. 

_Kurt could take a hike out of his mind,_ Blaine thought. 

“When are you eating lunch today?” Blaine asked.

“I’m out of Economics at one,” Oscar responded. 

Oscar wanted to be a composer and write music for shows on Broadway. Blaine thought that was such an amazing dream, and he believed Oscar could do it, too. The number of instruments he could play was insane. 

“See you at one,” Blaine said. 

He had all morning classes today, his last class finishing at 3:15. It was always hard pulling himself out the door on a Monday, but having clear afternoons was always an invitation for fun. Today, he had plenty of time to make it back to the apartment by his promised time. 

As they entered campus and reached the point where they would have to say goodbye, Oscar gave Blaine a kiss on the cheek.

“Meet at our spot?” Oscar said. 

Blaine smiled and nodded in confirmation. “Yup.”

He made his way into the classroom, and all he could think about was how he hoped the Subway Rats were doing well.

 

*

 

Mikey came out of the bedroom to announce the confirmed amount that they got after he recounted. “67.”

“Not bad since that was only half of our usual day,” Frankie said. She sat at the piano playing different bits and chords from songs.

Mouse was draped over the sofa watching a cartoon. Kurt sat on an armchair with his legs crossed. He had pulled on a hoodie and let the hood rest on top of his head.

“I’m hungry,” Mouse said.

“Get yourself something,” Kurt replied.

Mouse groaned, obviously lacking the motor skills to stand up and walk 20 feet to the fridge or pantry. 

“Hey, Kurt?” Mikey asked, “do you think I could take a shower?”

Mouse and Frankie’s eyes lit up. It hadn’t even crossed Kurt’s mind to use the things in the apartment that someone could find in any living space, things that Kurt hadn’t used in a long time. 

He ran his hands along the back of his head. They all just used the same generic shampoo in the water pump, rinsing their arms and legs. 

“Yeah. We all should,” Kurt replied. 

“I call second!” Mouse yelled.

“What?” Frankie hit her fist on the piano.

“It’s not like the shower is going anywhere,” Kurt said.

Mikey raced into the bedroom to grab supplies. “Can we use their soap and towels?”

“Yes,” Kurt said. He didn’t even know if they had enough towels for the four of them. “Be rational with their stuff though. Only body soap. Use our shampoo.”

Mikey nodded, smiled, and ran into the bathroom. Within seconds, they heard the water running. Kurt hoped Mikey could figure out how to use it. 

When it came Kurt’s turn, he slowly pulled off his shirt and threw it into the bedroom. Once he closed the door to the bathroom, he looked at himself in the mirror. 

He was only fit because he had to be. Because he carried heavy things as he walked miles every day. 

He never considered himself attractive. Hell, he never really paid much attention to what he looked like. 

The water warmed up quickly, and as soon as he felt water run over his face, he exhaled. Kurt washed off years of being treated like garbage, of suffering through his childhood even when he had a bed to go to each night. He let his judgment of others and hesitation to trust people go down the drain.

He washed it all off. 

But that’s the thing, the second you step out of the shower the dirt and the sweat and the germs from the world find their way back to you. 

They always do. 

 

*

 

“Hello?” Blaine shut the door behind him.

“Blaine!” Mouse called, popping his head up from the sofa. 

Blaine noticed Mouse’s wet hair and smiled. Every time he saw the Subway Rats they felt more like they were meant to be in his apartment, like he would come home every day and find them there. 

He set his stuff down and went into his room to put some other things away.

“Hey,” Kurt said when he re-entered the living room. 

Kurt’s damp hair hung over his face in a manner that contrasted the usual way it stood up. Kurt looked softer now, with a warm and subtle smile as he greeted Blaine.

“Hey,” Blaine said back.

Every word they said to each other felt sacred. Like they had some sort of secret language that required precise calculation of every phrase and every move. More and more it felt like Blaine was finally getting a hang of the mystery that was Kurt. He started to think of Kurt as a friend and not just someone he knew. 

“We all used your shower, I hope that’s ok,” Kurt said. 

“That’s great. Like I said, use whatever you want.”

“Ok.”

Kurt was studying some notebook that looked like it was filled with sheet music. The three kids sat on the couch watching a show on the family channel. 

“Um, how was school?” Kurt closed the notebook and messed with his hair. 

“Pretty average, honestly.”

Kurt nodded.

Blaine realized he probably said the wrong thing because he had the opportunity to go to a great school every day and they didn’t. He pursed his lips and reminded himself that it was okay and he would just know for the future. He was getting better at not being mad at himself all the time. 

Blaine stood awkwardly, looking back and forth between Kurt and the kids. They seemed perfectly happy to sit and watch TV. It still felt strange how normal and unspecial something can seem to one person and have the same thing be savored with care and excitement to another.

“I have to run to the supermarket, do you want to come?” He asked Kurt.

“Oh, um sure. If that’s fine with everybody?” Kurt said in the direction of the kids.

“What?” Frankie looked back.

“Blaine and I are going to get some food. Is that cool?”

The three of them nodded, eyes glued to the television. 

“Got any special requests?” Kurt asked.

“Could you get potato chips?” Mouse asked. “Normal ones. Like a big bag.”

“Of course,” Kurt said. “Anything else?”

They shook their heads.

“Alright, don’t burn the house down while we’re out. We’ll be back soon.”

Kurt walked into the bedroom and reappeared with a handful of one dollar bills. “For the chips,” he said.

“It’s fine, we can get a bag of chips.”

Kurt sighed, and after long seconds of contemplation, returned the money to the bedroom. He came back out wearing a jacket over his sweatshirt.

“Ready?” He said to Blaine.

Blaine grabbed his wallet and motioned to the door like he was escorting a prince. “Out we go.”


	10. Chapter 10

Kurt watched his breath become a barely visible cloud in front of him. He walked alongside Blaine, stopping cautiously at every intersection, not knowing when they were turning.

Kurt didn’t mind the cold that much, especially because he wasn’t having to sleep in it. He liked the chill on his wrists and neck. It felt exciting. _Yeah, but it’s just going to get colder and colder. Not exciting. Unbearable._ Kurt rolled his eyes at his thoughts. 

Blaine kept looking up like he was going to announce something, but then slid his hands back into his coat pockets and returned his gaze to the sidewalk.

“Hummel,” Kurt said, breaking the impossibly long eight minutes of silence. 

“Huh?”

“My, uh, last name.”

“Hummel,” Blaine repeated.

Kurt wasn’t sure if he was repulsed or soothed by hearing his name roll off Blaine’s lips. He hated everything about his last name, and the pain and suffering that came with it.

“My mom died when I was pretty young,” Kurt continued.

“I’m sorry,” Blaine said, more of an exhale than a statement. “Listen, you don’t have to, you know, do this.”

Kurt shook his head. “I know it sounds weird, but I feel like I’m lying to you.”

Blaine didn’t say anything in reply, he just exhaled. The cold seemed to freeze their thoughts and only let certain things reach the air. 

“I don’t remember her that much. Only long nights of my parents fighting and screaming. I never got their relationship, one minute they were kissing each other good morning, the next they were tearing each other apart.”

“That-- sounds awful,” Blaine paused as if he was going to say more, but never did. 

“They weren’t happy together, at least, I don’t think they were. It’s just so weird, it’s like they fed off each other’s frustration. After she died, my dad became such an angry person. All the time. Maybe they were mad at the world and just used each other to get their anger out, you know? God, I don’t know. I never got it.” Kurt played with the inside of the pockets in his jacket. 

He needed to get this out. He wasn’t sure why now, why with Blaine, but he knew that if he didn’t get it out now, he never would. Kurt only managed to talk about things that hurt him were when it felt like that was the only thing that he could say. And up until now, he could always come up with something else to discuss that would avoid him bringing up his childhood.

“I’m sorry,” Blaine said. “No kid should go through that.”

“It just never _stopped,_ ” Kurt said. “But, the weird thing is, once she was gone, it was worse. I learned that angry screaming is way better than angry silence. My dad, he just, I don’t even know who he was mad at after she died. I didn’t know if it was because he missed her or because he didn’t. He never talked to me. He just got worse and worse and the pure rage that he had was shoved deeper and deeper inside him.”

Blaine shook his head with irritation.

Kurt laughed at the clouds. “He didn’t give two shits about me. About if I went to school if I ate dinner, nothing. I figured I was better off on my own since the one person I had left didn’t even want me.”

Blaine looked up at him. His eyes were like how people's eyes looked when they aren’t crying but are feeling the same miserable emotions as someone who is.

“It’s not like I left him because I had nothing to leave.”

Blaine said nothing. Kurt held his breath. Their pace had slowed while he talked and Kurt tried to pick it back up again.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Kurt said quietly. 

“I had no idea,” Blaine muttered. 

“I was always homeless. I’ve spent my life in and out of a house, but I was always homeless.”

“Kurt--”

“Please don’t try to comfort me,” Kurt said. “Okay?”

They crossed a street. 

“You deserved to be comforted. You went through something that--”

“I don’t deserve anything,” Kurt retorted, making air quotes around the word “deserve.”

“I don’t understand why you think that,” Blaine said quietly. “You are by far the strongest person I’ve met, Kurt Hummel. I don’t know anyone who has gone through more absolute shit than you and still has some sanity left. You made sure that Frankie, Mouse, and Mikey would never go through something as, as _rotten_ as you did, and the fact that you saved them just shows how crazy amazing you are.” He scrunched up his shoulders and took his hands out of his pockets. “But you have to know that it’s okay to just feel shattered sometimes. You can ask for help, ask for _love._ Because as far as I can tell, you got none of it.”

Kurt had no idea how to feel. He never had someone else to talk to that wasn’t as broken as he was, someone who, although knowing so little about him, understood him so much. Kurt never had friends. And, Blaine was right, he never had people who loved him. Or gave him help. But then again, he never reached out and asked for it. 

He knew Blaine wasn’t trying to make him feel guilty, but Kurt always turned things around to put himself at blame. 

“I just want you to know that Me, Sam, and even Rachel are here for you guys. Always.”

Kurt looked up at him, feeling all of the guilt he constantly shoved down his own throat wash away. “Why does every conversation we have always end up sounding so deep and cliche?” Kurt asked, sniffling to try and stop himself from crying. 

Blaine rubbed his forehead, smiling. “Probably to make up for all the conversations where each of us kept it all in.”

“Oh yeah?” Kurt sniffled again. “What’s your dark past?”

“No, no, I just mean, it’s nice to unload to someone who didn’t go through your dark past with you,” Blaine said. 

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Blaine rolled his neck back. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll just look like more of a spoiled brat.”

Kurt dug his hands into his pockets. For some reason talking to Blaine now felt different than before. They had broken through some barrier and were able to communicate like normal human beings. Whether this made talking to Blaine feel more or less special than before was unclear to Kurt. 

“I’m giving you a chance to prove to me that you’re more than that,” Kurt said. He wondered how far away the grocery store was, and if when they reached it this floating feeling would go away.

“But I’m not,” Blaine said. “I already told you, don’t make me go through that again.”

Kurt shook his head. “No one understands me unless they’re broken, too.”

What were his motives in saying this? Kurt had no idea. Here Blaine was trying to convince him that he wasn’t a worthless pile of scattered pieces and Kurt was trying to tell Blaine that he was? Or maybe he was just trying to make Blaine feel as bad as he did. 

No, there didn’t always have to be some dark motive behind everything. Blaine had assured Kurt of that. He had started off thinking Blaine was a monster, but he convinced himself Blaine was just perfect. 

But Kurt knew better than anyone that only people who had felt hopelessly flawed knew how to portray perfection to others.

“I don’t like to think that I’m broken,” Blaine said. “Cracked, maybe. But I try to believe that no one is broken.”

“Guess you haven’t met me,” Kurt scoffed.

“See that’s the thing, I have. And I stand by my beliefs.”

Blaine made a sudden left and grabbed a basket from the stack outside what Kurt realized was a supermarket. 

“You owe me a depressing backstory on our walk back,” Kurt said. 

“No promises,” Blaine replied. 

“Don’t deprive me of a quality city street breakdown,” Kurt smirked. “I was beginning to think that was our thing.”

 

*

 

“Our thing?” Blaine would never admit to himself how much he enjoyed Kurt throwing snarky comments his way. 

It was kind of the strange feeling that you got when someone went out of their way to acknowledge you. Blaine knew that Kurt’s sense of humor made a rare appearance, so when Kurt teased Blaine with a smile on his face, Blaine felt so uniquely normal. 

Then Blaine worried he wasn’t taking good enough care of Kurt. He started to think about what it must’ve been like to grow up as Kurt had. He thought he had it rough as a kid. He knew nothing.

Kurt wasn’t a stranger in a grocery store. Blaine didn’t know why he thought Kurt would be, he wasn’t Willy Wonka, but Kurt seemed so at ease as they made their way through the tight aisles and grabbed things off Blaine’s list.

He thought about all of the homeless people, kids, and families that he would see almost daily, and how he never acknowledged them. It was awkward to smile. Even more awkward to see them and do nothing. 

They all had a story, a life, a childhood, just like Kurt and the rats. The realness of Kurt’s story wasn’t a special thing, there were millions of people who shared a similar trauma, and who are passed by people every day who can’t even smile at them.

His ringtone went off. It was Oscar. He answered it.

“Hey!”

“Hey,” Oscar replied, sounding a little less excited to talk to Blaine than he was. “I was just wondering if you wanted to go to dinner tonight.”

Blaine looked over at Kurt, who was trying to pretend he wasn’t paying attention to the phone call. 

“I was gonna go out with Sam and Rach tonight. But, maybe tomorrow?”

Oscar let out a sigh on the other end. “Okay. I just, I feel like I haven’t been seeing you as much lately.”

“I know, I have a lot on my plate right now. Listen, let’s go somewhere nice tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Well, I gotta go. See you tomorrow at the café?”

Oscar sighed again. “Yep, see you tomorrow.”

“Bye!”

“Bye.”

Blaine shoved his phone deep into his front pocket. Why did he feel so weird talking to Oscar? Conversations with him used to feel like the easiest and best in the world.

“What was that?” Kurt asked. 

“That was… uh, Oscar, my… my boyfriend,” Blaine said.

“Oh.”

Kurt nodded and continued to walk down the aisle. They were almost done shopping. 

Blaine hoped he hadn’t just ruined things with Kurt and the rats completely. 

See, here was the thing. Oscar felt like someone out of a movie. Like the love interest of the main character who was charismatic and spontaneous and just this super amazing cool person. He was a dream for Blaine, but Blaine was starting to notice that charisma isn’t the only quality needed in a relationship.

The great thing about those characters is that you only get to see the mysterious side of them, they’re perfect in their unattainability. When so much rides on someone’s ability to be unattainable, when you do attain them, they lose desirability. Well, after a while. 

In movies, the person you admire from a distance, the person you long to be close to, to be intimate with, the one person on the planet you want nothing more than to fall into their arms and stay with them until both of you are gone… that person wants all of the same things but with you.

They too, secretly, from a distance, are hopelessly in love with you. 

But it doesn’t really work like that. 

More times than not, the person who holds your heart in a stiff, unbreakable grip, has never thought the same thing about you. They just don’t. 

The chance of the two of you being fascinated with the other at the same time is highly unlikely. 

Which is why the movies are dumb and set unreasonably high expectations. 

When Blaine talked with Oscar it was like there was this amazing script that they could both follow, but with Kurt, Blaine never knew what to say.

Something he thought made him uncomfortable turned out to be something he was starting to prefer. 

After they paid and returned to the frosty air, Blaine knew what he wanted to say.

“So, I came out when I was 13,” Blaine said. 

They hadn’t said anything to each other after Blaine’s phone call. He figured this was a good place to start. 

“My parents weren’t huge fans. The opposite of fans, even. But instead of doing all the things I read about online like being kicked out or beaten or something, they just decided to ignore it. To pretend that I wasn’t serious. That… a part of me didn’t exist. We were like a family in a commercial, functioning like weird robot people who don’t really know each other. It was awful. But, now, after hearing about you I… I feel guilty for hating it so much. I was lucky to at least be comfortable and have a nice dinner every night.”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “Don’t feel guilty, that’s dumb. Sorry, I mean, don’t feel guilty.”

Blaine studied the thin cloud in front of him as he exhaled. “So that was my life for five years until I came here. I didn’t come out in school because I was so freaked out by my parent's reaction, I didn’t have any friends until junior year when I joined the music club, and I just felt like I wasn’t meant to be living this life in this body. Like it was all a lie.”

“Quiet, deafening misery,” Kurt mumbled.

“Yeah… yeah.” Blaine noticed that their steps were synched. He and Sam would always try not to walk in sync as a game. “That doesn’t make things… weird, right?”

“Huh? No. No, everything’s good.”

“Ok, good.”

They continued to walk in sync. 

“Still think I have a dark past?” Blaine asked. 

Kurt allowed a small laugh. “Yes,” he paused. “But I think that everyone does, really. It’s all about perspective. Black looks different on white than it does on dark grey, you know what I mean? I just think that it’s important that people acknowledge their privilege as well as acknowledging their struggle.”

Blaine swung the two grocery bags he was carrying as they walked. Kurt was extremely well-spoken when he wanted to be. “Perspective,” Blaine said, emphasizing odd parts of the word to fill the air.

“It’s the only thing that keeps me from falling apart every day,” Kurt said.

Blaine stopped walking. “Do you ever talk about it with the kids? Your life?”

Kurt stopped and faced him. “Yeah, at first. But not anymore. There’s just no point.”

“Well, you’re standing here telling me that you’re basically having a breakdown 24/7. I feel like there is some point.”

Kurt let out a sharp exhale. “They keep me busy, keep me entertained. They keep me happy, really. That’s just the dynamic. I don’t want to bum them out by always bringing up my shit.”

“I just feel like it would help all of you to talk about stuff when you are feeling--”

“Can you just stop, please?” Kurt took a couple steps forward. “I know you’re trying to help, but I’ve had this conversation with myself dozens of times and it only makes me more depressed. I’m sorry.”

Kurt stood with his hands in his pockets, his nose and cheeks pink from the cold. 

His eyes held secrets that Blaine wanted to swim through, and love that he wanted to soak in. Blaine would never admit it to himself, not even now, not even as he stood hopelessly staring at him. 

That feeling that rang from the pit of his stomach all those mornings ago. Desire. 

Neither of them moved. Blaine wondered what would happen if he acted on that feeling. They were only halfway back to the apartment. Too far away. Too much risk.

“Blaine?” Kurt rocked on his feet, turning to continue. “Can we go? I’m freezing.”

“Huh? Yeah, sorry.”

 

*

 

By the time they made it back to the apartment Kurt’s toes were numb. It seemed to have been getting colder by the second.

As soon as Kurt tossed the bag of potato chips at Mikey and Mouse who were sitting on the floor playing cards they dug in. Frankie, who was at the piano, rolled her eyes. 

Rachel appeared from her room. “I thought you guys would never come back! When the kids told me you were at the grocery store I was convinced that was code for some other more time-consuming activity. Let me help you put these away,” she said, immediately starting to put their purchases in their respective homes in a very orderly matter.

“I’m going to change, I’ll be out in a bit. Thanks, Rach,” Blaine said.

“Is Sam here, too?” Kurt asked, handing groceries to Rachel.

“Nope, he’s got GSA on Mondays. He always thinks Blaine thinks that he isn’t a good ally.”

Kurt smiled at that. “That’s sweet of him.”

“You seem like you’re in a better mood,” Rachel chirped, changing the subject like she was the president of the conversation.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“So, listen, we’ve been thinking. Or, really, I’ve been thinking and the boys have been listening. I don’t know any other way than to just tell you this… but, we think that we want to help you save up to rent a place,” Rachel said, throwing another 180 that Kurt could’ve never in a million years prepared himself for.

Kurt choked on air. “What? Are you crazy?”

“Absolutely not!”

Kurt rubbed his palms together, still trying to process that Rachel’s proposal was real.

“We don’t want to give you any money or anything like that, because Blaine made it very clear that you won’t accept it, but we want to let you stay here until you can pay rent somewhere else. Blaine can get you a job at the café, and you can still do music, and I’m sure we can find somewhere for Frankie and Mikey to work too,” Rachel said. “This was all Blaine’s idea, but I put a lot of thought into the details.”

Rachel stopped putting away food and looked Kurt in the eye. Kurt’s body was frozen, and the kids were all looking up at Rachel.

“Before you say anything else, I just wanted to tell you that it’s really hard for me to be empathetic. It’s one of my… many flaws. Blaine and Sam, they’ve had to struggle with things on a level that I could never understand. And, well, I’m not exactly sure what my point is but I just wanted to tell you that I am here for you. I may just be Blaine’s annoying roommate to you, but I want to be for all four of you like Blaine has.” Rachel took a deep breath.

For the first time to Kurt, Rachel felt like an actual human being. And she was right that she and Sam just felt like the sidekicks that were dragged into the rats’ mess. He couldn’t understand how people that were basically strangers to him would let him into their home for now who knows how long.

“I’m going to hug you now,” Rachel said, spreading out her arms. It was a quick hug. 

“We’re buying a house?” Mouse asked from the floor.

“Not really,” Kurt replied. “But we are going to stay in Blaine’s apartment a little longer than we thought so we can get a lot of money before we leave. And, yes, hopefully, find a real place to stay.”

“A real house!” Mouse cheered. 

“Are you serious?” Mikey asked.

Kurt nodded. “As of now, that’s the plan.”

Mikey’s jaw dropped to the floor. “Holy shit.”


	11. Chapter 11

Blaine helped Rachel prepare tacos for dinner, even though it was a Monday, and _not_ a Taco Tuesday, which seemed to upset Frankie very much.

They ate quickly. Of course, they did, every meal the rats treated like it would be their last. That was how they had lived their lives thus far. 

Rachel was going out that night for karaoke with friends from school, but Blaine and Sam didn’t have any plans. After dinner, they started playing a video game with Mouse, while Mikey and Frankie took turns playing with the guitars.

Kurt was the spectator, as usual. Not a peacekeeper, not some sort of godly superior, but he preferred to sit out of activities, as he got more joy watching others have fun. That’s what he told himself, anyway.

Sam, Blaine, and Mouse all looked so normal sitting on the sofa playing some sort of racing game. Like Mouse had sat between them playing that game dozens of times. They had been here for over a whole day now. How did it already feel so normal?

“Kurt?” Blaine called. 

“Huh?” Kurt snapped out of his daze.

Blaine kept his focus on the TV. “I know I said I’d let you peer pressure me into letting you sleep on the sofa but I have to revoke my offer.”

Kurt didn’t even think about the meaning of the words that Blaine had said. He only heard the casual tone. Was their exchange of childhood traumas just an icebreaker activity?

“Why?”

“Because we all have to get up early for school and I don’t want you to have to be up that early,” Blaine said.

Kurt nodded his head even though he knew Blaine couldn’t see. 

“Don’t you work Tuesdays? Thought you were gonna try to get Kurt a job there,” Sam said, then yelped as he swerved his car into a building.

“Oh, yeah. Kurt? You down?”

It was the absolute weirdest thing to have a conversation in which no one is looking at each other. The back and forth commentary vibe of it all made Kurt uncomfortable. He was only good at conversation when he had time to think and process each word.

The job was something that needed a lot of contemplation.

Kurt never had a proper job. They got money with their music. Sure, there’s probably some shop in New York that would’ve hired a well-built boy in his early 20s, but Kurt was always coming up with more cons than pros. Con: he didn’t want to leave the kids all day. Con: he didn’t want to need to travel far to work. Con: he didn’t want to be miserable all day. Pro: he would earn more money giving the kids a better life.

What hipster café would hire a homeless kid, anyway? Rachel seemed sure that Blaine could get Kurt a job, but how did she know?

“Kurt?”

“Yes,” Kurt spat.

“Yes to you’ll come interview tomorrow?”

Kurt bit his lip, nodding slowly at first, and then quickly. “Yes.”

About an hour later the kids started yawning. It was barely 8:00. “You rats can get changed into pj’s,” Kurt said. “Then maybe we can watch a movie or something.”

At the mention of a movie, the kids scurried off to their room. 

Blaine laughed. “That was easy.”

Kurt pretended to brush dust off his shoulder, which received a chuckle from Sam and Blaine.

“Got any good movies?” Kurt asked, semi-reverting to his flat tone.

Sam leaped off the sofa to look at the small but impressive collection of DVD’s on the shelves below the TV. “Too early for Home Alone?” Sam asked. He took the lack of response as a yes. “How about The Karate Kid?”

“We haven’t watched that in forever!” Blaine said excitedly, grabbing the movie from Sam.

Kurt had never watched either of those two movies. At his house, it was either a sports game or Jeopardy that was on TV and never a movie.

After everyone was ready and Blaine had arranged snack bowls of pretzels and the chips they bought, Sam started the movie. 

Kurt sat between Blaine and Mouse on the sofa, and not even three minutes in Mouse was resting his head on Kurt’s shoulder. 

Mikey kept asking Sam about what was going on and how to keep track of the characters, while Frankie hogged the pretzels. Kurt had to keep reminding himself that this wasn’t normal. Even after Rachel had insisted that they were going to get a real place, Kurt knew that would never happen. Frankie and Mikey were barely old enough to work. It was, it was just impossible. 

Kurt’s gaze kept falling over to Blaine, who seemed pretty engulfed in the movie. For some reason, watching Blaine’s reaction and seeing the colors reflect on his face was a more enjoyable experience than watching an old movie. 

Something he wanted so bad as a kid was to go to a theatre and see a film, but his parents never let him and he was too scared to break the rules. Evidently, as he grew older, that fear disappeared, but he still never got the chance to go to a theatre. Now he was sitting here with his three favorite people in the world and two emerging runner-ups watching a movie on a real television, but all he could seem to focus on was Blaine.

 

*

 

Blaine was well aware that Kurt was staring. He tried to pretend that he didn’t know, but he did. He felt Kurt’s eyes on him, saw his body shifted out of the corner of his eye. Blaine tried to pay attention to the movie, but he just kept feeling a giggle trying to rise out of him as he reminded himself Kurt was staring straight at him.

He was a deer in headlights in that he couldn’t decide whether or not to turn and look at him, so he remained frozen.

He broke.

But it was worth it.

Kurt’s face lit up with panic as he locked eyes with Blaine, but surprisingly, Kurt didn’t try to pretend he wasn’t staring in the first place. They just looked at each other, the smallest of smiles creeping onto their faces. Kurt was the first one to crack a full grin, which made Blaine smile as well. 

Kurt turned to face the TV, and Blaine did as well. It was nice to know that their secret language extended beyond words. 

Eventually, Blaine got up to refill the snacks, but beyond that, the six of them sat enjoying the movie for the rest of it. Once Mikey understood what was happening. They laughed at the jokes, Blaine turning to share an extra giggle with Kurt, and Blaine swore he saw Sam shed a tear near the end. 

 

*

 

As the credits began to roll, Blaine popped up and said, “bedtime!”

Munching on the last few chips, Mouse said, “let’s watch a movie every night.” He then proceeded to yawn.

“Come on guys, it’s pretty late. We should get to bed,” Kurt said.

At the hideout, and even at the places they stayed previously, they always went to bed early, because they had nothing else to entertain themselves with that would keep them up. Sure, sometimes they played some music, but usually, they were tired of playing after a long day’s work.

Kurt made his way into Blaine and Sam’s room and grabbed his sleeping bag and a pillow from their neatly organized pile of things. When Sam saw him re-enter the living room, he shook his head.

“Dude, we can’t let you sleep on the floor,” he said.

“It’s fine,” Kurt replied, so tired he began to slur his words. “I’m used to it.”

“Which is exactly why I won’t allow it,” Sam said, putting his hands on his hips.

Blaine turned around from where he was washing dishes at the sink. “Kurt you sleep on the sofa, I can sleep on the floor.”

“I said it’s fine,” Kurt said forcefully. 

“Ok,” Sam mumbled, walking into the bathroom. 

Blaine turned off all the lights once everyone was settled. “Rachel will be back soon,” he whispered to Kurt, who was adjusting himself in his sleeping bag. “Just try to ignore her when she comes in.”

Kurt nodded. Once he got comfortable on the floor, he wished he was back in the bed with Mouse. No matter how many times he told himself that he wouldn’t get used to this lifestyle, he was adjusting. 

He saw Blaine go to lie down on the sofa. 

“Blaine?” Kurt muttered.

“Yeah?”

He didn’t respond, just slid out of the sleeping back and took a seat on the sofa. He felt himself getting red as Blaine gave him a smile that said: “I told you so!”

“Shut up,” Kurt said.

“I didn’t say anything!” Blaine whispered back.

“Still,” Kurt whispered. “Shut up.”

Blaine wiggled himself into the sleeping bag and lay propped up on his elbow. “Try not to hate me tomorrow when I wake you up.”

Kurt shrugged and flopped down onto the pillow. “No promises,” he whispered.

Kurt was beginning to feel that a part of him could exhale when he shared these quiet moments with Blaine. Not that he was doing something wrong everywhere else, just that it took a lot to have 50 things constantly be in the back of your mind. Now, he could let those responsibilities fall. 

“What?” Kurt asked. Blaine had this smirk on his face that Kurt couldn’t quite decode. 

“Nothing,” Blaine said, shaking his head and letting his head fall onto the pillow. “Nothing.”

“Night,” Kurt said. 

There was a pause. 

“Night.”

Kurt wrapped the blanket around himself and burrowed into the sofa. For some reason, he couldn’t keep his eyes closed. He kept glancing over to see that Blaine was still there or looking at his watch to see that not even a minute had passed. The last thing he wanted to do was sleep. He wanted to do something that made him feel the way he felt bowling last night.

Just, _anything._

Kurt realized that now that he was able to, he wanted to squeeze every last drop out of life. It was like there was something that was right in front of his face but someone had to slap him to see it.

It’s not the easiest thing to fall asleep when you’ve just been slapped. 

 

*

 

“I think he’s up,” Rachel said. 

Blaine turned to see movement on the couch. She was right. He grabbed another bowl from its shelf and re-aligned their variety of cereal options in a neat row.

“Good morning!” Rachel chirped.

Kurt popped up, rocking the bed head and squinting at them. Blaine gave Kurt a kind smile as to excuse Rachel’s… _Rachel_ -ness.

“Perfect timing,” Blaine said, “we leave in half an hour.”

Kurt slumped off to the bathroom. He re-appeared a few minutes later.

“I don’t want to wake the kids,” Kurt said.

Blaine knew he could see his and Rachel’s confused looks.

“I need clothes.”

“Oh!” Blaine leaped out of his seat, nudging a cereal box, which he quickly put back in place. “It’s fine, I’ll just grab something of mine.”

Blaine pulled out a faded blue t-shirt and elastic waist pants, not completely sure if he and Kurt were the same size. He handed them to Kurt who was waiting outside the bathroom.

They were out the door with minutes to spare. Sam had to walk the same direction as Blaine and Kurt for a few blocks.

Sam and Blaine talked about sports and memories and what was going on at school until they hit their fork, and every time Blaine looked over at Kurt or tried to include him in the conversation he gave a sign that he wasn’t interested.

When it was just the two of them, Blaine asked Kurt, “you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Just not fully awake yet,” Kurt replied after a pause. 

“They’re always looking for people to clean tables and stuff, it’ll be no problem to get you the job.”

“Thanks,” Kurt mumbled. 

Blaine decided not to push it anymore. It was warmer today, but still cold. Blaine wore a scarf.

Eventually, Blaine started humming a tune that he couldn’t quite place the name of, and he realized that Kurt was humming along with him. They shared a euphoric look before Kurt returned his gaze to the sidewalk in front of him.

Every time Blaine thought he had cracked Kurt’s shell Kurt seemed to put it back together. 

Blaine had to keep reminding himself that these were a crazy past few days for Kurt and the Subway Rats, and that it wasn’t Blaine’s fault, and that it wasn’t Blaine’s business. 

_But it was his business_ was the thought that he kept settling on.

Once the café was in view Blaine tried to chipper himself up. “Make sure to be really polite, and just, nevermind. You’ll be fine.”

“Thanks,” was all Kurt said in reply.

“Hey, Andy!” Blaine said to his boss as they walked through the door. 

“Hey,” she replied.

“This is my friend, Kurt. He’s looking for a job here,” Blaine said.

Kurt gave a small wave accompanied by a small smile. 

“He’s down for whatever, he just needs an income.”

“Perfect,” Andy said, coming out from around the counter. “Andrea, but Andy works fine.” She and Kurt shook hands. Then she whispered to Blaine, “he’s cute!” 

Blaine rolled his eyes. 

“Follow me,” Andy said. “Blaine take the register.”

Kurt followed Andy into the back room and Blaine got set up, resuming his normal work. About 20 minutes later Kurt returned with an apron and small smile.

“Got myself a gig,” Kurt said. Something in his voice made Blaine uneasy. His smile faded, and more quietly he said, “can I, uh, talk to you? Outside?”

“Yeah, sure,” Blaine replied. “Gimme two minutes,” he said to Andy. A chill ran down Blaine’s spine as they left the heated café. Something was wrong. “What’s up?”

Kurt looked up like he was contemplating even saying what he was about to say. He took a deep breath and stared down at the pavement. “Look, this is too much. You’ve done so much for us, _so much,_ but I can’t let us crash your tiny apartment for God knows how long and this job is a nice offer but it’s just too much and--”

“Hey, hey, slow down,” Blaine said his mind racing.

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be sorry.”

“It just doesn’t feel right. It’s like-- it’s like we’re in a play or something, like these are all just roles that we’re going to retire at the end of the week,” Kurt’s breathing picked up and Blaine noticed his cheeks becoming redder than usual.

He didn’t know what to do, he just stood there listening.

“I’m just really confused, about… about a lot of things, and this, the job I mean, this is just one more thing that I feel like I’m _burdening_ you with,” Kurt continued.

“Back to the burdening thing? Come on, Kurt, we went over this. You’re not a burden. To anyone.”

A single tear made its way down Kurt’s cheek and Blaine’s heart shattered.

“It’s crazy to think that we could ever afford a real place. In this short amount of time… listen, I know, I just, I don’t know. We should go. We should just all go,” now Kurt was untying his apron, voice becoming more frantic. As Kurt panicked, Blaine panicked. 

“Stop, stop, stop, stop,” Blaine tried to use his calm voice but it wasn’t working, Kurt just kept trying to undo his double knot. 

Blaine’s heart was racing as he watched Kurt crumble in front of him. Kurt just kept apologizing, _I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,_ and Blaine just kept telling him to _stop it, just stop it and listen,_ but Kurt wasn’t listening, his whole body buzzing and his cheeks hot and his voice hectic--

Blaine’s hands found their way around Kurt’s jaw and their eyes locked, the contact making Kurt halt. They were still and silent for half a moment before Blaine leaned forward. His movements were swift and purposeful as Blaine pressed his cold lips against Kurt’s. Kurt was stiff for a second as the shock of Blaine’s actions settled in, but soon he felt Kurt soften and rest a hand on Blaine’s waist, returning the pressure.

They were cold, and shaky, and made up of a million broken pieces held together only by the feeling of each other.

Blaine’s eyes were squeezed shut and his fingers slid through Kurt’s hair. Blaine had read that when you kiss someone the whole world seemed to stop, but he didn’t feel like that at all. He heard the busy streets and passing people and all the sounds and smells of the world around them, but the only thing that mattered was him and the boy.

Blaine had never felt safer in anyone’s embrace or certain about his emotions than he did right now with Kurt. 

Kurt was warm in the cold air, and Blaine’s skin tingled through his shirt where Kurt’s hand was pressed to his waist. Kurt’s skin was soft where Blaine held it, and his lips were softer. 

Blaine didn’t realize how much he really wanted this until it was happening, and he thought that pulling away would leave the two of them undeniably lost forever. But he did.

Kurt’s eyes were filled with tears when Blaine looked at him.

“I’m sorry,” Kurt whispered.

“It’s okay,” Blaine whispered back. 

Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine and pressed his head into Blaine’s shoulder.

“It’s okay,” Blaine said again.

Kurt felt so fragile and childlike as he clung to Blaine, yet at the same time, he felt strong and unbreakable.

This was it. This was the feeling of the rest of the world slipping from your fingers with only one thing, _one person_ holding any meaning. 

Blaine’s ringtone went off. He let one arm fall off Kurt to check it and make sure it wasn’t important. It was Oscar.

“Shit,” Blaine said. He realized what he had just done. That his forever moment now had an after, that something being real meant that it was real for everyone else, and not just him. He realized what he would now have to do.

“What?”

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” Blaine was too scared to answer the phone.

Kurt read the caller ID and broke their hug. “Answer it,” Kurt said.

“No it’s fine, I’m sure it’s not urgent…”

“I should probably go.”

“No, Kurt.” 

“I’m sorry.”

Blaine reached for his hand but Kurt was already walking towards the apartment. “Kurt!”

Blaine pressed decline on his phone.

“Shit.”


End file.
